


Sweet as Honey... and as Bitter as Gall

by grappel



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Addictive Behavior, Alcoholism, Anxiety, Boss/Employee Relationship, Canon Divergent, Childhood Friends to Lovers, Chronic Pain, Depression, Drunken Mistakes, Eventual Smut, F/M, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Medical Trauma, Obsessive Behavior, Past Injuries, Past Relationship(s), Secret Relationship, Slow Burn, Smoking, The F word is used a lot, Touch-Starved, get ready for the fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-05
Updated: 2019-01-10
Packaged: 2019-08-19 05:53:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16528664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grappel/pseuds/grappel
Summary: The farmer needs help around her farm, it's getting too big and complicated for one person to handle on their own, but in a town as small as Stardew, there's not exactly anyone job hunting.There is, however, someone in town who hates his job with a passion.Update: I got super drunk on New Year's so now they have to, too





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey Guys!  
> Just a quick note, while this story does technically take place in Stardew Valley, I've basically transplanted it into the real world.  
> While things like "Yoba" and "Zuzu" suited the game well, I feel like it sticks out in this context.  
> Also, most of this was written very late at night as a project for when my sleep is all messed up, so pointing out obvious errors to me would be very appreciated!  
> *Updates will not be regular or scheduled, we post three chapters at a time then disappear like men*

"Work for me."

"…What?" Shane blinked at her, too shocked to even process what Rebecca had asked.

"I've been there, I've worked that awful, unfulfilling job and I know how miserable it is… also, it wouldn't hurt to have an extra hand. You would be happier, I think. You should work on the farm."

He looked down at his beer, a million thoughts racing through his head at once.

"That's a pretty big decision to make on the spot."

"Yeah, you're right. You can think on it if you want, but I just want to ask you one thing- how much are they paying you there?"

"Minimum wage" he answered reflexively, that was something he was all too familiar with after many a late night reviewing personal budgets and finances, trying to calculate just how much he was going to have to ask of Marnie to support both his goddaughter and himself for the week.

"I'll pay you double that, Monday through Friday from eight to five, and then maybe a couple hours on Saturday every now and then, but never past noon so you'll have the afternoon to spend with Jas" Rebecca glanced around the saloon quickly, "or doing whatever."

He grimaced, but was a drink or two too far in to really feel the guilt. Shane upended his beer, finishing the last half off smoothly.

"Double the pay and better hours, huh? Just how well are you doing over there on that farm?"

Curiously, she responded with a sad smile, "I'm doing really well, and a good farm-hand would be a worthy investment for doing even better."

He stared at his empty mug, it was an incredibly tempting offer, but he had gotten accustomed to his crappy job. It was degrading, sure, but at least it was air-conditioned.

"Look, think on it, and if you decide to take me up just come let me know, we'll work out the specifics and come to an agreement, okay?"

Shane clenched his eyes tightly shut, fuck it, this was the best opportunity to turn his life around he had seen in a while, and if he didn't take it he would only kick himself for years to come every time he looked at Jas.

"Alright, I'll do it."

She immediately lit up, "Really?"

"Yeah, sure, anything will beat that shit-hole."

"Excellent! Let me know when you put in your two weeks at Joja, you can get started as soon as you're ready, okay?"

"Yeah… okay."

She offered her hand, and he took it quickly, not making eye contact.

The door closed after her with a squeak and unceremonious slam, and he immediately felt anxiety and guilt grip his heart. He didn’t know this woman, what if he put his two weeks in and she decided to hire someone else? What if he showed up and she saw just how shitty of a worker he was and fired him immediately, then he would be out of a job completely in a tiny town that wasn't exactly flush with job openings.

He ordered another beer.

 

Two days later Shane had a very formal letter in the mail. It was in a solid parchment envelope, legal size, and had a tag with his name and address printed neatly on the middle. He flipped it over in his hands a few times as he took it back into the kitchen, where Marnie was finishing up dishes.

"What's that?"

"I don't know, I think it might be a really overdone credit card advertisement?"

He sloppily ripped it open down the front and slid out the packet of papers it contained. It was paperwork, a whole lot of paperwork, with 'Honeysweet Farms' stamped crisply at the top of each page in watermark.  
He ran a hand down his face, groaning while Marnie leaned over his shoulder.

"Is that a contract?"

"I guess so…"

"Well! I'm actually impressed, I wonder how long she's had that written up. Must have been looking for some help for a while, huh?" She dug out a pen from the drawer of odds and ends and dropped it next to him.

"If you need any documents or anything just let me know, your social security card and birth certificate are around here somewhere, I'm sure."

 

"Only one more week." Shane chanted to himself, seeing the light of the Stardrop in the distance through the twilight like a beacon of hope. It had been a particularly rough day, with his last two weeks drawing to a close his manager seemed hell-bent on sucking out every last drop of energy from him. He had spent today detail cleaning coolers, rubbing sticker residue off of shelves, or any other menial and difficult task that seemed to come to his mind. Sam kept shooting him looks during the part of the shift they shared, whether it was resentment or jealousy he couldn't tell, but it sure wasn't anything friendly.  
He took a little pride in that, actually. While he still wasn't entirely convinced he had just signed himself up for the worst job in the world after reading through all of Rebecca's contracts, there was something elating about knowing that his days under those hellish fluorescents were coming to a close.  
As he opened the heavy wooden door to the saloon, he swore to himself that he'd never set foot in that building again, even if it was just to pick up something that he couldn't find at Pierre's.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: fixed some grammatical errors and awkward wording

     Shane woke up early the morning of his new job. He felt awful, nerves making his stomach toss all night in a way that alcohol refused to soothe. He eventually went to bed early, only to find that his swimming mind wouldn't quiet long enough for him to get more than a half hour or so of sleep at a time.

     He flicked the light to the bathroom on, and stopped to look himself over in the mirror. His hair was disheveled, he had stubble a few days old, and the bags under his eyes gave away how rough last night had been on him. He groaned in distaste as he ran his hand down over his belly, he noticed in passing that it was getting bigger, but this was the first time he had really taken it in. He shoved the heels of his hands into his eyes, bottling up all the self-hatred and disgust that was beginning to bubble up. In the other room he heard Jas' very creaky bed shift.

     That was enough to shake him out of his stupor. He took a quick shower, but decided that his stubble wasn't worth dealing with this particular morning, he was just going to be outside all day anyway.  
Getting dressed he decided on his normal day to day wear, shorts, a t-shirt, and an old Joja hoodie. If it got ruined, he wouldn't be heartbroken, he supposed.

He knocked lightly on Jas' door, "Hey, you awake?" he called, and he heard her shuffle something around quickly before opening the door in her nightgown.

"Morning Uncle Shane!" She beamed too happily, and he looked over her to see what was obviously her dollhouse in her bed with the blanket thrown over it. He decided that that also wasn't worth dealing with this morning, he just hoped that she had actually slept enough last night to stay awake through her lessons.

"Morning, go brush your teeth, okay?"

She nodded and quickly closed her door behind her.  
Once he made it to the kitchen table he sat down with a pained sigh to start putting on his shoes, and Marnie was already up and sipping coffee.

"Excited for your first day?"

He grunted in acknowledgement, struggling with the knot in the laces of his old running shoes.

"Would you like any breakfast?" She tried again, but he just shook his head, the idea of food making his already tumultuous stomach turn more.

"Oh! I was thinking about inviting that nice farmer girl over for dinner tonight, what do you think?"

"Tonight? I mean…" He sighed in frustration, the knot seeming to just get tighter, "yeah, sure, whatever, I'll ask." He snapped back, glaring down at the stubborn laces and hoping that she would just get the damn hint that he wanted to be left alone. 

He heard Marnie take a deep breath to keep her composure. "I'm going to see what Jas wants for breakfast, you have a good day, okay?"

"Fuck it…" Shane mumbled, and slipped on his shoes, tying up the only one he could, and left.

 

     Shane cursed to himself as he fought through the brush at the southern edge of the farm, it had gotten overgrown at the edges, making it hard to tell where it ended and the forest began. Once he made it to the cleared out section of the farm, however, he was actually impressed by how well manicured the land was. It had been much more of a mess last time he was here a few seasons ago, when he dropped off Rebecca's first hens. The coop was still where it was then, and he noted that there was a little feeder screwed onto the bottom with crushed seashells in it, like he had recommended.

  
     As he made his way to the freshly painted farmhouse he gave the neat, expansive rows of beehives a wide berth, and walked through fields of young crops all set up with an automatic irrigation system.The farm really was doing well, he thought, as he walked up the porch steps. The door opened before he could knock and Rebecca stood in the doorway, holding a cup of coffee, and her long black hair knotted into a perfectly smooth bun on top of her head. She didn't look happy, per se, but still far too awake for this time in the morning. 

  
     "Sorry, I saw you walking up, thought I'd invite you in for some coffee?" She stood aside, and once he walked in and got a look at both Rebecca and her home he immediately regretted all the decisions he had made that morning. Not only was her hair perfect, but she was wearing a neat flannel shirt and jeans that had a little wear around the knees and ends, but otherwise looked pristine. They fit her perfectly, as if she had had them tailored, and he swore he had never seen someone look so good in work clothes. She smelled great, too, what he could only assume was perfume noticeable when he crossed the threshold. Her home was bright, and clean. It reminded him of the homes in magazines, he was amazed someone managed to live in a space like it without ruining it immediately.

"Coffee?" She asked, but was already headed to the one-cup brewer on the counter.

"Uh, sure" He said, still standing by the front door and debating whether or not to kick off his shoes, not wanting to walk on the new carpets with them, but also not wanting her to see the hole in his left sock.

  
She popped a small cup in the brewer and pressed a couple buttons.

"Are you going to be okay in that?" Rebecca asked, glancing at his outfit. He immediately felt heat rising to his face.

"oh, yeah I should be fine." He mumbled, shoving his hands in his hoodie pockets. She gave him a reassuring smile and nodded.

In seconds the coffee was done, and seeing that he was obviously uncomfortable, she offered that they take it onto the porch. He agreed, and after watching her pull on proper leather working boots, they went outside to sit on the porch steps.

The sun had just breached the tree line, the shadows were still long, but it was already beginning to get oppressively bright.

 "So, I already planted the fall crops," Rebecca started, motioning to her plots, and as if on cue the pumps of the irrigation system began to whir to life.

  
"Most of those are already dedicated to people in town, I'm keeping a small portion for myself for, you know, eating." She chuckled, and Shane took a deep drink of his coffee so he wouldn't have to force a smile.

"But I've been thinking about expanding, I've got some friends in the city that have gotten really into the farm-to-table movement and keep asking me for micro-greens, so I think I'm going to ask them to help me invest in a greenhouse and the investors will get the first few boxes of whatever they decide they want me to grow, within reason."

Shane looked over to where the old, ruined greenhouse still sat and felt his heart sink. It was an absolute disaster and he didn't know a single thing about carpentry.

"Is that what I'm going to be working on?"

"Yup, well, what we're going to be working on."

     He didn't know how he felt about that, the only part of this job he was looking forward to was that he might get some solitude. Rebecca finished her coffee and offered to take his empty mug inside too. He stood and walked down the porch while she put away their dishes and headed towards the greenhouse. He was halfway there when he heard the farmhouse door close behind him.

"Hey! Where are you going?"

He jabbed his thumb over his shoulder at the greenhouse, walking backwards to it now, while she jogged to catch up with him.

"Okay, I wasn't planning on doing anything with it today though."

"No?"

Rebecca shook her head, "Actually, I was thinking we could just get to know each other a little today, since we'll be working together and all?"

A headache pulsed between Shane's temples, that was the last thing he wanted, but he didn't know how to tell her that without sounding ungrateful.

"I mean, I'm sure I could find something for you to do today instead, if you'd rather do that, but you're getting paid for today either way."

"Uhh," He rubbed his temple, pleading for the caffeine to start working its magic, "How about we talk over lunch?" He offered, hoping that would be a good compromise for her. She smiled, and with a pang of bitterness he realized she was wearing eyeliner. 

"That sounds good. Why don't you go feed the chickens, and I'll go check on the cows?"

 

     Lunchtime came around far too quickly for Shane's taste. Rebecca met him outside the coop, where he was leaning against the wall, cursing to himself, and fishing in his shoe for a pebble that had gotten lodged. The chickens seemed to flock around him reflexively, which would've been very cute if they weren't getting in the way of him trying to put his foot back down. "Excuse me, ladies..." he spoke softly to the hens as he gently scooted them out of the way to walk with her back to the farmhouse.

     The walk back was quiet, and when they got back they sat in the same silence while she moved around her kitchen. Other than asking him what he liked on his sandwich, they didn't talk. Shane was grateful, but felt the pang of guilt for putting a damper on her day. Maybe it would've been better if he had just turned her down, he didn't need to be dragging down this farm like this...

"Here you go," Rebecca pulled him out of his own head, and offered him his lunch.

     After eating he began to feel better, less light-headed, and in his improved mood found himself already looking forward to his after work drink. Again, Rebecca took the dishes, but asked him to wait at the table while she left the kitchen.

She crouched next to a bookshelf in the hallway, before finding a large photo album and bringing it back to the table.

That after work drink was looking better and better.

"Sorry if this is… I don't know, silly? But I just wanted to give you an idea of what this farm is all about, where it comes from, and why it is so very important to me."

Fuck, he didn't want to know about this. He was tempted to tell her that if she thought he was going to be solution to saving something sentimental she was poorly mistaken.

She opened it up, about in the middle and pointed to a picture of an elderly man that he recognized from his childhood. 

"This is Ralph James," 

"Yeah, I know. I spent summer's here. Look," He pulled the book from her, flipping through and naming the years younger villagers pictured. Near the end he landed on a large city-wide portrait taken at a luau, with all the kids lined at front. 

     On the far left was a toddler Maru, who had squirmed out of her older half-brother's grasp. Sebastian's wide smile was hardly recognizable, especially with the missing teeth. To the right of him was a blonde, obviously Sam, looking in the wrong direction and a small brunette girl who would later dye her hair purple and be recognized as Abigail. The older kids were on the far right: Penny looked almost the same, gazing down at her toes and fidgeting with the end of her shirt, a girl with curly black hair and a missing flip flop, and Shane holding up bunny ears behind her head. He pointed to himself. 

"That's me, I used to play on this farm sometimes. I know where it comes from, okay? The town was mortified when someone bought it, but you seem to be doing fine here. I thought it was just going to rot away to be honest." 

He closed the album a harder than he probably should've, "No need to go down memory lane," He grumbled.

Rebecca stared at him intently, and he hated himself for letting his shortness get him fired on his first day.

"Wait, wait, wait… Shane?"

"Yeah?" 

She suddenly smiled brightly, "You're Shane! Oh my god, how did I not connect the dots? Ugh, of course, you're Marnie's Shane! I can't believe I forgot, I'm such an idiot!" She laughed and spun her chair so she was facing him directly. 

"You look so different... No offense. The hair cut was a good call, you always did wear it too long." 

He blinked, unimpressed and impatient for her to get to the point. 

"Do you not recognize me either? I'm Bee!"

Oh.

"Holy shit…" He muttered, eyebrows shooting up. Waves of memories of the girl with curly black hair and pale skin that was always covered in bruises hit him like a train. 

"Yeah, holy shit…" Rebecca, or rather, Bee repeated, slumping back into her chair.

Shane scratched the back of his head, suddenly feeling even more awkward, if that was possible. "So, uh… how you been?"

"I've been… well, you know, it all goes downhill after childhood doesn't it?"

Shane actually laughed at that, "Yeah, for damn sure does."

Suddenly walls of formality dropped, the courtesies normally extended to a stranger replaced with the lower, more comfortable tone of voice that he remembered Bee having.

"So… Last I remember you had a massive crush on me and expressed that by putting stuff in my hair,"

"Yeah… sorry about that?"

"Hey, I'm sorry for pushing you into the lake and ruining your gameboy."

He rolled his eyes, "My dad gave me hell for that for weeks."

"Um, so… if it's too personal I apologize, but… Jas?"

     He felt his face heat up immediately, and rather than putting together some sort of eloquent excuse, something that sounded heroic even, all he could think about was how good a beer sounded right about now.

  
"Yeah, no it's fine that's a uh, a fair question." He sat up and rolled his shoulders, "But it's a long story. A really long story. She's my goddaughter, firstly," he tried not to think about the fact that she almost looked relieved by that too much, "My best friend got sick while she was pregnant, the dad wasn't in the picture, and, yeah…"

Bee nodded, "So you moved in with Marnie to help raise her?"

"Yeah, when I thought about the best place for a kid, this place was all I could think about, I actually really enjoyed my summers here. It's just better for her."

     Bee sighed, almost dreamily, but he hated the way she looked at him as if he were some pitiful victim. He noticed he was bouncing his leg and pulling at the loose strings in his hoodie and pulled himself together and cleared his throat.

"So what about you? Any… um," he was going to ask about a significant other, or a kid, but suddenly felt like that might be intrusive.

"No, no anything, really… That's kind of why I moved back out here actually. Mom and Mama never really raised me with the notion that I would get married, or have kids, or… any of that."

"Really?"

     She laughed, but it was bitter, "Yeah, I was going to be this perfect career woman, and I was… for a little bit. I had perfect grades, a doctorate degree, and an awesome job at a research facility. I was happy with it too. The last time I was romantically involved was a girlfriend for the better part of high school. Once I got accepted to my dream college in the city, though… I was awful. I told her, and myself, that I was leaving her for a million other reasons: we were too different, her parents didn't like me, we had always talked about how hard a long distance relationship would be, stuff like that. But, the truth is, I didn't want the distraction. I valued getting out of that town and proving that I was 'successful' more than I cared about her and that was one of the biggest mistakes I've ever made."

"Wow," was all he could think to say, and mentally kicked himself once he saw how pained she looked.

"Yeah, so, I left. I left all of it. I had to get back in touch with people, being a person, and the earth too… there's more to this life than money and success. It was just dumb luck that Mama still had the deed to the place. When I asked her for it, she started crying. I'm still not sure if it was because she was happy someone would be taking care of the place, or if because she thought her daughter had become a failure. I think it was a little of both."

Wanting to ease the conversation out of such heavy topics before she started crying on him, he changed the topic.

"But isn't your last name Young?"

"Oh, yeah, when Mama married Mom, Mom adopted me and we all took her last name. So, technically it's Rebecca James Young, but that's a mouthful."

He forced a light laugh and glanced outside, seeing that the sun was starting it's afternoon descent.

"Is it weird if I call you Bee still?"

"No, actually, I think I'd really like that,"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bee is bi, I don't intend on addressing that in fiction, so here's your lil trivia fact  
> Also! feeding your chickens sea shells give them extra calcium and it makes their shells stronger.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's some weird formatting things here that I'm struggling with, I'm sure I'll iron them out soon though.

_"Hold up babe, I think that's my phone ringing…" Shane quickly spotted his phone on the counter, about to vibrate itself off the edge, but caught it just in time._

_"Hello?"_

_"Hey… uh, hi" the voice on the other line cleared her throat, "Shane?"_

_He squeezed his phone between his ear and shoulder, giving his girlfriend a shrug when she walked into the room mouthing 'Who is it?'_

  
_"This is he"_

  
_"Hey! Hey, Shane, it's Ophelia-"_

  
_"Ophelia! I haven't heard from you in forever what's happening? What's going on?"_

  
_"Listen, I'm not good, I need you to listen, please" she sounded stressed, her voice paper thin and gravelly._

  
_"Oh, yeah, sure? What's happened?"_

  
_"I had a baby Shane and-"_

  
_"Congratulations!"_

  
_"No Shane, listen-"_

  
_"Who's the father? Is it someone I know?"_

  
_"No, it's not, Shane just listen," he remained quiet, sensing the urgency in the crack of her voice._

  
_"There was a complication," she started, taking a slow and deep breath, "There was a complication with the delivery, I almost died, she almost died… We just got sent home, we're okay now, but we're alone Shane. The father isn't in the picture- and he doesn't need to be."_

  
_Shane's jaw set, his fist already itching to break the jaw of the man who would leave his old friend alone, strapped with a kid. She continued, "But my health isn't good, I should get better, but you know I have no family if… if something were to happen…"_

  
_"Ophelia…"_

  
_"I know, Shane, I know I just…" another deep sigh, and Shane could hear quiet fussing in the background._

  
_"Her name is Jasmine- I just call her Jas. She's the most beautiful thing in the whole world Shane, I can't wait for you to meet her. Other than me though, she's got no one. If something were to happen to me, she'd be all alone and… I can't do that to my girl."_

  
_Shane felt his throat tighten, already knowing what she was asking._

  
_"Are you asking me to be the godfather?" He heard his girlfriend slam something on the counter behind him, he ignored her and remained facing away._

  
_The fussing got louder._

  
_"Yes, Shane, I am. There's no one else I would trust, I know you'd take care of her if worse came to worse."_

  
_"I don't know, Ophelia, look you know you're one of the most important people in the world to me, but-"_

  
_"Look, just, think about it. Please? You're my only option," the fussing began to turn into a wail, "I've got to go- promise me you'll at least think about it?"_

  
_"I promise."_

  
_The call suddenly ended after that, his best friend and her baby evaporating into the kitchen air._

  
_"So… godfather?" He could hear the malice in her voice._

  
_"Yeah, uh, that was my old friend from High-"_

  
_"I know who Ophelia is."_

  
_Shane raised his eyebrows, she was standing squarely in front of him, jaw set and arms crossed._

  
_"Should I be worried about this, Shane?"_

  
_"No! Of course not! She's got no one- and this is just worst case scenario,"_

  
_"So it won't be a big deal if you say no?"_

  
_Shane stayed quiet, of course it was a big deal. That was Ophelia's whole world now, and she wanted him to take care of Jas if something happened… that was the biggest 'deal' he could ever imagine._

  
_"Good." She replied, letting her arms drop, "The only child I'm raising will be my own."_

  
_Shane rubbed his face, trying to figure out a gentle way to tell her she was ruining something for him._

_"I just want to be there for her."_

  
_"But in doing so you'll force me to be there for her too! I don't even know her or her kid, it's not fair to ask me to raise a stranger's child because you used to know her."_

  
_She was right, in a way, he knew that he wouldn't be thrilled if the tables were turned, but he couldn't say no. His current option, then, was to procrastinate. He'd decide later. Much later. As long as he needed._

  
_"Okay, fine. I won't." He said, only half lying._

 

After Shane finished the rest of the afternoon chores Bee had given him, he met her in the stables to say goodnight for the evening. He was dying for a drink, and really only wanted to let her know that he was headed out, but he did technically agree to pass on Marnie's invitation to her.

He found her brushing her horse, Tuff, a retired barrel racer and Tennessee Walker that she had bought from Marnie. Shane was happy to see that she still cared for him as much as when she insisted that she really did want him, even at his advanced age. 

"Hey, I'm gonna head out, I just wanted to let you know that Marnie invited you over tonight for dinner."

"Oh, well, that was very nice of her... but..."

He felt relief wash over him, a reunion dinner was the last thing he wanted in between him and his next drink.

"No, it's totally fine, I can just tell her that I forgot to ask you if you want? I don't mind being the bad guy,"

Bee laughed and sidled out from the stable, "Yeah, just, I've got this bottle of wine that's got 'Friday' written all over it and I was really hoping to enjoy it next to a bonfire tonight."

"Oh, shit it's Friday, isn't it?" He groaned, not looking forward to being surrounded by the Usual Crowd that clogged up Stardrop on Friday nights.

"Not looking forward to being social either, huh?" She shifted her weight uncomfortably, dropping her gaze to her eye-level, so she was looking at the frayed strings in his hoodie. She really wanted to catch up with him, even though her only memories of him were of him being a bully, he was another part of her idyllic childhood come to life. It seemed only right that she would be back on this farm with him. 

"Why don't you hang out and have a drink with me tonight, then? We can be only as social as you want to be."

Now it was Shane's turn to shift uncomfortably as he weighed his options. He could tune out the crowd and ignore the sidelong glances he'd get at the saloon, he could buy a six-pack and stare at the lake by himself, in the cold, or sit around a fire with someone that was offering to not be social if he didn't feel like it. 

"Yeah, sure." He agreed, stuffing his hands in his pockets and pretending to be fascinated with the empty stall to his left. "What do you want to tell Marnie, then?" 

"I'll give her a call and we'll schedule dinner for later in the week, I'm sure she'd rather go spend the evening with Lewis anyway, isn't it their date night?"

Shane nodded. He was impressed that he had picked up on all of that in only the few months she had been here, he thought his aunt was trying to keep their relationship under wraps?

"Okay, well, I'm going to change into something that doesn't smell like farm work, if you wanna run home and do the same I'll have the fire pit set up by the time you come back?"

"Yeah, sounds good to me, and-"

"Oh, and hey, you should bring all your old Joja stuff with you too."

"What?"

"Just trust me, I'll bring the beer if you bring that." She smiled and waved her hand, seeing him off.

 

Once he got back, in what was theoretically clean clothes and a bag of everything he owned with the Joja logo on it, he saw Bee had set out a couple of camp chairs and a brazier that already had a modest fire going in it. In between the chairs was a cooler, and he was relieved to see that she was already holding a wine glass that appeared to be about half empty, maybe that would make it harder for her to realize he had taken a swig or two from his flask on the walk back.

"Hey there, cowboy" she said, smiling up at him, and he merely raised his eyebrows.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what that was," she scoffed to herself, "I had too much time to think about how I'd greet you when you got here, I guess."

Shane chuckled, "It's fine, I get it. What's in the cooler?"

"Oh! Here," she popped it open, revealing a multitude of colorful labels, none of which matched. "I trade with breweries a lot, these are just some of what I've got floating around. Most of them are pretty good!"

He picked one up and examined the abstract art on the label, "Sweet potato ale? Really?"

She smiled, looking into the fire, "need a bottle opener?"

Shane sighed and pulled out his own, attached to his key chain, and popped it open. He was lucky that he wasn't picky, because this was definitely... interesting.

They sat together and stared into the fire, drinking silently, for at least half an hour before Shane got buzzed enough to strike up a conversation. "Oh! Why did you want me to bring all this stuff?" Shane asked, holding up the bag of clothes. "Burn it." He looked at her in awe. That was a great idea, he decided. And so he did. Bee watched on as one by one he dropped each article into the fire, neither seeming to mind the smell or smolder they created. It was cathartic, and when he was done he felt so satisfied he considered calling it an early night and heading home, but the free beer was here, not at home.

"I really am sorry for putting things in your hair,"

Bee laughed, heartily, in a way that made him smile in return and feel more comfortable with the idea of talking, "And for cutting some of it off."

"What? You cut off some of my hair!?"

"You have so much you couldn't even tell!"

She pulled her hair over her shoulder self consciously, and Shane just now noticed that it was down. And that it was long. Like, really long. The curls looped loosely over her shoulders and tumbled between her fingers as she ran her hands over it protectively.

"Do you still play with it?"

"...What?"

"I mean!" he laughed "your hair, you used to do this thing where you'd take a curl and rub it like a worry stone," he mimicked the motion to show her and she copied it with her hair.

"Yup, I still do... never stopped actually,"

"I always thought that was cute..." He muttered, and if she heard him, she didn't move to respond in anyway.

Shane popped open another beer, and noticed he was starting to make a sizable dent in the cooler's stock. When Bee saw him leaning over the cooler she waved her hand in the air dismissively and grabbed one for herself. He noticed that her wine bottle was laying on its side at her feet, empty. When had that happened? 

"I've got plenty more, don't worry about running out."

"Woman after my own heart..."

Once it got silent again, however, Shane was suddenly uncomfortable with it. He was enjoying having someone to talk to that was new, in a sense. He had gotten bored to death with the same faces he saw day in and day out.

"So, your house looks nice," he tried, taking a deep drink so he wouldn't have to think about how lame of a conversation opener that was.

"Oh, thank you. I kind of hate it."

"What? Really? It looks like you put a lot of work into it!"

"Nah, not really. It's all mass produced generic decorations that don't really mean anything to me, you know? It feels like living in a display window. Mom used to decorate our house in such a beautiful way, everything had a story, and meaning. It was... a little eclectic, sure, but it gave the house life and made it feel like a home. It's easier to do when you've got kids, though" she said, shooting him a side look and playful smile, "nothing makes a fridge pop quite like a test with a gold star on it."

"You want kids?" He slipped, if he had the facilities to consider what he was saying he wouldn't have asked that, especially judging by the way she inhaled deeply and sat up.

"I don't know? Maybe? I've only thought about it as an option since I moved here."

He nodded, and moved to take another drink of his beer only to discover that it was already empty. They were going down faster now, it seemed.

"Kids are terrifying, nothing makes you feel more like a fuck up than watching a life other than your own have to deal with your shit."

Bee kept staring straight ahead into the dying fire, "do you feel like a fuck up?"

He didn't respond, instead fishing around in the cooler for something in a can. Easier than fumbling with the bottle opener.

"Because I do."

He laughed, "What!? You have a goddamn doctorate! You own a farm! How are you a fuck up?"

She stayed quiet, letting his outburst hang in the air. He rubbed his temples, brewing with a million thoughts at once. He wanted to tell her about how bad his life is, how he was irredeemable but he was sure she understood that much by now. He wanted to shake her in frustration, she had everything, and- he looked over at her and saw that her shoulders were shaking lightly.  
She was crying.

"Hey, hey... I'm sorry, I just... fuck I'm sorry, I didn't mean that like .. well like that." He leaned forward, taking her hand with a confidence he only seemed able to summon once he was more than a few drinks in. He rubbed the back of her hand, wishing desperately that she'd stop.

He didn't want to be here if she was going to do this, he didn't want tonight to be a 'drink and get sad' kind of night. He had too many of those nights.

Bee leaned forward too, rubbing her eyes, "I know, I know how you meant it. Isn't it just... frustrating though? It doesn't matter what you do in life, I guess, if at the end of the day everyone just gets drunk and feels like a fuck up."

She met his eyes, they had gotten darker as he had gotten older, she noticed. She gave him a sad smile, and it seemed like she had calmed down a little for now. 

"You look so different..." she trailed off, letting her eyes slide over his face. It was the Shane she knew, only now he had a strong jawline, and a line from stress in between his brows. Shane struggled to meet her own gaze, found it difficult to focus on much of anything at all, only recognizing that she still smelled so good, even over the fire, and her lips looked terribly inviting and close. She parted her lips, looked down at his own and then back up to his eyes, and that was all the invitation he needed.

He leaned forward and met her lips with his own. It was slanted, and a little too rough, but they lingered like that for a moment. He couldn't fully register what was happening, a part of him enjoyed the touch and another was frustrated that he was mostly numb to it. 

Bee pulled back, swaying in her chair a little and holding onto his shoulders for support. He reached out for her as well, attempting to steady her but he was just as, if not more so, unstable than she was.

"Was that okay?" He asked, suddenly very worried.

"Yeah, I mean... no, but," Bee felt like her world was spinning, and Shane was the only thing steady and nearby, "Just one more."

One more became two more, and then they both quickly lost count. At one point Bee recognized that her side was very cold, and she realized it was because Shane was pushing her shirt up. A small and quiet part of her was screaming and thrashing against the tar of drunkenness that this was not okay, but by god it felt so good. When was the last time she had kissed someone? Been touched by someone, at all? She quelled that angry part in her, her desperate need for affection of any sort easily winning over. 

Shane finally pulled back and held her at arms length, he was panting, and looked at her as if he had suddenly woken up from a long nap.

"We can't do this." he said, and Bee nodded, so thankful that he had the ability to regain a little composure. 

"I'm your employer." Was all she could think to say.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tuff is actually my horse in real life, I love him dearly. He's 14 :)


	4. Chapter 4

     The morning light peaked through an open window, gently filtering through gauzy curtains, but to Bee's very hungover and oversensitive eyes she might as well have woken up in a tanning bed.

     She rolled over and pulled the blankets over her head… and felt a spot in the bed that was warm. She sat up immediately, her stomach dropping, hoping and praying to deities she didn't even believe in that Shane hadn't stayed the night. Instead, she was met with her cat, Tesla, who had gotten up when she pulled on the blankets and was obviously disgruntled.

     Sure enough, when she felt around the bed, the warm spot was only the size of her cat. She sighed in relief, and then her stomach dropped in a different kind of way. She kicked the blankets off of herself and ran to the bathroom. What a wonderful start to the weekend, she thought.

 

After she had cleaned herself up she shuffled miserably to the kitchen and make herself some coffee and breakfast. At least Shane wasn't working for the next couple of days…

     She rubbed her temples, what the hell had she just gotten herself into. All those weeks of drafting up employment documents, getting them approved, all out the window because not even after 24 hours of him being in her employment she had screwed it up. By kissing him. She kissed him a lot. Her cheeks went ablaze at the thought, she knew she should be ashamed, but it was actually kind of nice to let herself give in to temptations for once. That was all a part of what moving here was about, right? Letting herself move with the whatever made her happy and that had made her happy... right? 

"Fuck…" She muttered.

     When her coffee was done she looked out the windows to the brazier, glad the fire had died fine by itself. The chairs and cooler were still out there, however, along with an impressive collection of empty bottles. So not only would she have to deal with the mental and emotional torture of the morning after, but she'd have to go clean up after their mess too.

     Bee's first instinct was to go get her phone, shoot him a text promising not to tell if he didn't and they could pretend like none of it had happened, but after seeing it was barely 7, she decided it'd be better to wait. She decided to call him later in the afternoon, after he had the time to come to terms with it like she had.

 

_Make a mess of everything you do… such a mess, you try to look all neat and put together and then what happens? You drink too much. You take too much. You talk too much. You convinced a man to quit his job, allure him into your web with money just so you can drunkenly make out with him? Do you even like the guy or are you that desperate? What, were you hoping his childhood fascination would carry over? You don't even know if he's single! You can't just fire him now either, you're both stuck like this, and it's all your fault. You did this. Like the man doesn't have enough problems already. He's got a kid! You're such a BI-_

 

 "Just… stop." She said to herself. She had just finished cleaning up the yard and realized that she was just standing in the middle of her storage shed, brooding. She had to stop, though. She couldn't do this all day. Women who had their life together don't brood in the storage shed. She fixed her hair, straightened her posture, and walked back out into the sunlight.

The animals still needed to be fed.

 

 

Shane woke up to gentle knocking on his bedroom door, but he only buried his face deeper in his pillow and hoped that whoever was knocking would just give up.

They didn't.

"What?" he snapped, and the door opened just a crack to reveal Marnie's worried face.

"Hey Shane, I just wanted to let you know it's about 2 in the afternoon, Jas just got home and was asking about you…"

"'kay… I'll be up in a minute…." he grumbled

After the door closed he sat up and rubbed his eyes. His mouth tasted like stale beer and… cigarettes? Had he smoked last night? Suddenly, the memory of him burning all of his Joja clothes rushed back to him. Then talking to Bee and…

"Fuck." He stared at the wall blankly.

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuck ugh!" he threw himself back into his pillow, dread making his entire body feel like lead.

This was what he gets for trying to break out of the status quo, huh? He knew he should've just stuck with his safe, shitty job. Atleast he wasn't getting fired for trying to shove his tongue down the manager's throat.

Another knock caused him to startle, this one obviously Jas.

"Yes Jas?" He called, his voice hoarse and throat very sore.

This time the door swung open widely and Jas bounced in, hopping up onto the bed.

"Look! I fell out of a tree and scraped my elbow!" She held her elbow up, which was decorated in at least 4 brightly colored bandages.

"Oh yeah?" he forced, attempting to straighten his hair and look like he hadn't slept all day.

"Yeah, Mrs. Vincent's mom said that I was lucky I didn't break my arm! I kinda wish I had though, because when Vincent had a cast everyone in town got to sign it and it was blue." 

He nodded, only half listening, then stood up and plucked Jas off of his bed as well. 

"Alright, well I've got to go take a shower, you want to tell me why you fell out of a tree when I'm done?"

"Yeah! I'm gonna go tell Aunt Marnie too!"

 

     Shane stood in the shower staring into space until the water got cold, only to realize he hadn't actually washed anything. After getting out of the shower he brushed his teeth excessively, the taste of last night insisting on lingering, it would seem. He wasn't present as he got dressed, just going through the motions of putting on whatever was closest to his reach. The sound of Jas talking to Marnie in the kitchen might as well have been static.

He finally managed to wander to the kitchen and sit at the table with the rest of his family. Jas was standing on her knees in her chair excitedly retelling her story. Shane found a splinter in the table to pick at.

"Shane… Shane?" He looked up at Marnie, Jas wasn't even in the kitchen anymore. She looked concerned, but that wasn't anything new.

"Your phone has been going off in your room for a minute now, thought you might want to go check it?"

"Oh, yeah."

 

He shut the door to his room behind him and flopped into bed to look at his phone. He had a couple of texts and a missed call from… Rebecca Young.

He groaned and dropped his phone on his chest. He wondered if he just ignored it and didn't show up for work Monday she would understand that he knew he was fired? He lay like that for a moment, before curiosity finally convinced him to open the text.

  **Hey. I'm really sorry about last night. I think we both had too much to drink, and we were both in a place where maybe too much to drink was not a good idea.**

**However, I think we should be adults about this, and just let it stand. I'm not going to let it ruin our arrangement, if you don't.**

**I hope you're okay with that.**

 

**See you on Monday?**

 

     He read the messages over a second, then a third time before hitting reply. What did he want to reply? He put his phone down. Maybe he should just say nothing and show up on Monday after all? Just pretend it had never happened and get started on that stupid greenhouse?

He picked his phone back up, typed up a reply, and hit send before he could overthink it.

       **yeah that sounds good. see u on monday**

 

     At least he still had a job. He wasn't sure what he would do with himself if he didn't, he didn't even want to think about what he would be like unemployed in his current state. He stared at his phone, a brief moment of gratitude washing over him before the numbness settled in again. He furrowed his brows, and selected the "Edit Contact" option above his messages, erasing the entire name, and replacing it with a single bee. Something about that just felt... better.

     For the rest of the day, no matter what he tried to do, he couldn’t convince himself to get out of bed. His aunt must have taken pity on him, the few times he heard Jas asking about him or get near his door, he would hear her expertly divert the girl's attention away to something else. The guilt of not being there began to eat at him though, he remembered Bee pitching her offer to him in the Saloon, "that way you can have Saturday to spend with Jas," she had said… "or whatever."

  
     He pulled his hands down his face, feeling like absolute garbage. He dug around in the laundry scattered around his floor, searching for the flask he had taken to Bee's last night. Once he found it, though, it was empty. He must've finished it off on his walk back home. Once back in bed he stared at the scratched and well worn surface of the flask. What 30 year old man had a flask that looked like this? This looked like the flask of an elderly war veteran, he thought.

He let it drop to the floor, sick of looking at it and knowing that it was empty and that he didn't have anything in the house to refill it with either.


	5. Chapter 5

_Shane's consciousness faded in and out. When it was in, all over throbbing pain, spinning lights, and too loud noises would assault his senses until his IV would be replaced and the sweet release of medicated slumber would take over him again. When he was out, all he could dream of was the smallest baby in the whole world, who had a full head of hair and eyes that seemed to accuse him of something._

_That was… his baby?_

_No. Yes? It was Jas._

_She was his baby now._

_A week later he found himself more awake than asleep, cognitive awareness just beginning to return to him. He barely noticed when various white coats examined him, couldn't track the passing of days or nights, or even how many times he was wheeled in and out of surgery.  
_  
_Now though, when he was awake, he had to stare at the tiled ceiling and watch the little apple shaped sprites dance just in his peripheral vision around the equipment that surrounded his bed._

_He was only half there when his girlfriend came to visit him, carrying a baby. They had had a baby?_

_No._

_That was his baby, just his baby._

_He was so happy to see his baby that he didn't even listen when she told him she was leaving. He couldn't look at anything other than Jas' perfect face when his girlfriend was taken by sobs so intense she began to scream and had to be escorted out._

_By the time he had recognized Marnie was there was almost three weeks later. It was the first time he had woken up with full awareness. Even fully conscious, he had trouble comprehending everything that happened, surely this was all still just part of his fever dream._

_"Shane, you got hurt during practice, and got a pretty serious back injury. They think you damaged your spinal cord, the doctor said he was amazed you're not paralyzed…"_

_"Where's Jas?"_

_That was all he cared about._

_"She's at home. I've got her, Shane, honey, what did you do?"_

_By the time he was discharged he had lost his spot on his team, the spot that was going to fast-track him straight to the pros. His body atrophied to the point that he couldn't even recognize himself in the mirror anymore, his clothes weren't even his own. His girlfriend had removed him from the lease of their expensive 'lawyer-money' apartment, and all of his remaining belongings were left in a suit case at the foot of his hospital bed._  
_During the drive back to the valley in Marnie's old truck, he could only stare in awe into the car seat squeezed between them and admire Jas' perfect eyelashes._

_This was his whole world now._

 

 

     Monday morning came around eventually, whether they wanted it to or not. Bee finished her morning work routine, pinning back a stray hair or two that threatened to come loose from her perfect bun. She examined her make-up carefully, the perfect balance of barely there and looking well-polished. Satisfied with her appearance, she went to the kitchen and opened her slim notebook and went over the details for repairing her greenhouse again until it was 8. She looked out the window, no Shane in sight. She briefly wondered if he'd even be here at all.

To eat up time she set out two coffee cups, and two pods of coffee neatly next to each other on the counter for when he got here, next to the new jacket and boots she had bought for him. 

By 8:30 she finally saw him walking towards the farmhouse and felt her pulse quicken. She couldn't blame him for being late, today, she decided. Again, she opened the door before he even made it up the porch steps. 

"Hey!" She said, decidedly far too cheerily. "Good morning, come on in,"

He grunted in acknowledgement, looking down at his feet once he was inside and she closed the door behind him. 

"Coffee?" She asked, her hand pausing over his jacket and suddenly feeling very presumptuous.

"Sure."

     She popped the pod into her brewer and while it worked its magic she steeled her nerves and picked up the bundle and presented it to him. "Here, this is for you. It's the least I can do after making you…. Uh, you know, burn all of your stuff."

     He looked at the jacket with distaste, unsure whether to be offended and indignant or grateful, because he had indeed burned all of his jackets and the walk up here this morning was uncomfortably cold. Wordlessly, he took it from her and slipped it on. The outside was a sturdy, navy blue canvas but the inside was lined with cotton and it fit him much better than the stretched out hoodies he typically wore. 

"There's also some boots behind you, once we get started on the construction it won't be safe for you to wear tennis shoes, so…" She had her back to him, brewing her own coffee and stammering over her words.

"You didn't have to do that."

"I know, but, I consider it an investment in my farm like anything else I suppose, so don't think of it as a gift, okay?"

     Right. They were at strictly professional now, they were going to be adults about this. Shane slid off his greying shoes, one that still had a knot he couldn't undo in the laces, both grateful and awkward to put on the new leather work boots. He tried not to think too much about the brand he saw printed on the insole of the boot, knowing exactly how expensive these were.

 "Here," she handed him his coffee, not making eye contact. 

They sat on the porch like last week, watching the shadows cast over the farm shorten as the sun rose and they sipped coffee quietly, the tension between them tangible. Bee stole a glance or two over to him, he still hadn't shaved and the stubble was beginning to form into a particularly gruesome looking scruff, but he looked... right. There was something about him dressed for work, drinking coffee on her porch that she liked. She had to stare into her now cooling mug for a minute to convince herself that thinking like that would only lead to more problems. 

 

"What's a microgreen?" 

Bee blinked, pulled out of her own thoughts, before looking at him squarely for the first time that morning.

"Huh?" 

"You said you were going to use the greenhouse to grow microgreens. What is that?"

She actually laughed lightly at that, and Shane felt a pang of resentment. "Look, I don't live on this kind of farm, okay! I don't know a lot of this stuff!"

"Whoa, okay, it's fine, I wasn't laughing at your question. I just thought it was funny that microgreens is how we're going to get this ball rolling." She retaliated, putting her hands up as a sign of surrender. 

 Shane threw his arms up in exasperation, "I'm trying, okay!? What do you want me to do!"

 

"No. Stop that." She was suddenly very stern and he immediately regretted his outburst, "It's fine, okay? I'm sorry I'm so... awkward right now, just, look." She sighed and fidgeted,  "Thank you… thank you for trying. I know things are… weird right now so, I appreciate you getting us to, um, move on, I guess." Bee chastised herself mentally for being so sloppy with her words, but he seemed to understand what she was saying.  

She took his coffee cup from him and went back inside. When she came back out she was in her own work jacket and boots and nodded towards the greenhouse. "Come on, I'll tell you all about _microgreens_ on the way," she said, and allowed herself a small smile. 

 

    Despite a couple of attempts to keep up conversation during their work clearing the mess, it died out entirely relatively quick and they worked in silence. Tense silence. They kept a good distance between them at all times, only regarding each other when they needed to move something as a team.

When lunchtime rolled around Shane opted to head back to the ranch for a break. He raided the fridge, then sat back in his chair at the table and groaned as his desperately aching back released a little.

"Well hey there, how's work going?" Marnie asked as she came in from the stables.

"Miserable," he grunted, dropping his face into his hands. 

"Oh, did you get a new jacket?" she was pointedly ignoring his response, ever persistent to be unwelcome sunshine in his life. 

"Yeah."

He heard the chair across from him scrape across the floor as his aunt seated herself. He groaned and attempted to stretch his neck, hoping she didn't want to have a conversation.

"Did you eat lunch?" 

"Yup." 

"Okay… so how is Rebecca?"

 

"Did you know that Rebecca is Bee?" He interjected, hoping to distract her from her interrogation.

"Bee?... Oh! You mean Ralph's Bee? I had no idea! I'm so glad to know that the farm stayed in the family, I had thought she was just some city high baller who wanted to play! I definitely have to have her over now! I wander what her mom got up to once she moved? She looks so different now, I hardly recognized her!" Her voice continued on and he let it drone, nodding at the appropriate places, grateful that he wasn't expected to respond anymore.

"I'm going to make a call real quick, I wonder if anyone else has realized that that Ralph's granddaughter yet…" as soon as she made off for her room he headed to his. He quickly found his flask on his bedside table, now over half full. He took a hearty drink, then remembering the tension from this morning, decided to top it off with the quickly dwindling bottle on his dresser and tuck it in the inside pocket of his jacket.

     While Marnie was talking excitedly in the other room he took the opportunity to slip out of the house unnoticed and make it back to Bee's farm before she badgered him about having her over for dinner again. Once he crossed her property line he slipped his flask one last time before heading back to the greenhouse. At this point, there was essentially only  dirt and the foundation left. The clean-up had gone a lot faster than he thought it would have.

He heard Bee approach from behind him, and he intentionally stayed facing away from her, hoping it looked like he was deep in thought about the greenhouse. When she stopped next to him she pressed a water bottle into his hand.

"Don't want you falling out on me."

He nodded and popped the top open, nodding to the almost complete greenhouse. "So when are you planning putting up the new one?"

"Day after tomorrow, actually. I don't know about you but I'm pretty tired after all that. I figured we'd finish the clean up tomorrow morning, and then Wednesday morning pull out the pieces and see if we can't make some sense of it. I got Robin to sketch out some blueprints for me, and I hypothetically have all the materials I need, but…" she sighed, and shrugged. "We'll see." 

"So, what am I doing this afternoon?"

"Oh, pretty much the same as last time actually," she responded, then quickly stammered, "just some clean up, that is, pushing back the woods and clearing back land..."  

Shane just nodded, refusing to even look her direction while she fidgeted and stumbled on her words in a way that reminded him we was just an embarrassing mistake. 

 

 

     Once five rolled around again, Shane found her in the stables again, brushing Tuff. The flask in his pocket was significantly lighter now, he found it hard to leave alone when he was busying himself outside of her sight, and after awhile the thoughts that had been plaguing him all morning were beginning to fade. He was intending to only say goodbye, but some liquid courage forced his tongue. 

"Hey, I was going to head out, but before I go…" he trailed off, and Bee stopped cold, her hands still resting on her horse's side, "did you want to talk about the other night?" He finished. 

She sighed, resuming her affections and not looking at him. "Did you?" 

"I don't know. Maybe. I think it was a dumb mistake and I don't think we should let it ruin our uh, work relationship, I guess it is." A small voice told him that he wasn't worthy of having a relationship worth saving, that she had lucked out in realizing just how awful it was to be around him so early, but he bit his tongue and focused only on Bee. 

"I agree, it's a silly thing to lose an old friend to…" She trailed off, sounding a little hopeful. She didn't know why she was pressing so hard for Shane to like her, maybe because he was the only person she would regularly see in town now, maybe because it just felt so damn right that she'd come back to the only place where she remembered being truly happy and this simply felt like fate. 

When she looked back he had a small smile on his face, "I'm glad you feel the same way," he said, with almost too much feeling. She wondered briefly what had caused the sudden shift in attitude, but decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth. She would take this Shane over the snappy, short one from this morning any day. 

"Okay, well, have a good night Shane."

"Good night, Bee."

Her cheeks warmed when he said her nickname so earnestly, "Come on, Tuff, let's go for a ride…"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My grandfather's name was Ralph, he kept a garden in Ohio that he fed his family with, and during October he always grew too many pumpkins and then gave them away to the neighborhood kids for carving.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This fic made me take up smoking again. Don't smoke, kids. It's bad for you.  
> Also! I've got a tumblr up now: grappel-writes.tumblr.com  
> Come send me drabble requests

     The next week passed uneventfully, with the same comfortable routine that they had established by the first day. Shane would make the quiet walk north of the ranch to the farm in the cold mornings by himself, and by now he had begun to find the deer trails that made cutting through the small patch of woods that separated the properties easier. Some mornings he brought his flask, some he didn't. The days he didn't he usually went back for it by lunchtime, but today he decided he would try to leave it at home all day. The past week had left him feeling a little more ill than usual, so he was forcing himself to wait until he made it to the saloon after work today. He made it to Bee's farmhouse before 8, he had had a particularly good morning with his newfound resolve and found himself actually looking forward to their shared coffee. Like usual, she greeted him at the door before he had cleared the porch.

 

     Once inside he scanned the still immaculate home, not a single thing was out of place since he had first seen it, except for a pack of cigarettes on the living room table.

 

"You smoke?"

 

"What? Oh, no… no, uh, that's-" she scrambled, trying to come up with a convincing lie on the spot, but failing.

 

"Yeah. I do." She finally conceded, slumping her shoulders a little. "I've actually been using a vaporizer, for the most part, but getting all the stuff for it out here has been next to impossible."

 

      Something about this felt like a success to Shane, as if he had finally discovered something about her that was almost a flaw, it made her seem more human. She handed him his cup of coffee and quickly scooped up the evidence on the table, shoving it into the pocket of her jacket.

 

"I know it's a nasty habit, I thought I was doing a good job hiding it from you, too." She laughed self-consciously. Shane held the front door open for her as they headed onto the porch.

 

"I don't mind, that you smoke" Shane finally spoke up, after a minute of silence, "It doesn't bother me, you shouldn't have felt like you had to hide it." He said, more to his mug than to her, quietly contemplating just how much of a dick he must be to make her feel like she had to keep such unimportant secrets from him.

 

"It's a habit, I guess. I started as a teenager and hid it from my parents, then in college I was so afraid of my classmates or professors thinking I was anything less than perfect…" She reached up to her shoulder, looking for a lock of her hair, but dropped her hand back to her warm mug when she found it was all neatly pressed into a bun.

 

"Do you want one right now?" Shane asked, dropping a glance to her jacket pocket before returning to her face, her cheeks and nose were rosy with the cold and an embarrassed smile played on her lips. She pulled the pack out of her pocket and flipped it around in her hand a couple times.

 

"Would you mind?"

 

"I already said I didn't."

 

     She flipped the top open and pulled out the lighter nestled amongst them before plucking out a cigarette with her impossibly well-manicured nails. She held it between her lips and offered one to Shane, but he refused. After her first drag she took another sip of coffee, and released a deep, contented sigh.

 

"Feel better?" He asked, jealous that she was getting to scratch her addiction's itch and he wasn't. It was still only the beginning of the day, he reminded himself, already feeling bitter about a decision he had made no more than an hour ago.

 

"Yeah, much better... God," she dropped her head into her hand, rubbing her brow, "I really need to quit."

 

Shane finished his coffee in silence, contributing to this particular topic felt too hypocritical.

 

 

     "And with that… We. Are. Done!" She punctuated each word with a twist of her wrench, tightening the final connector on the new branch of the irrigation system that would water the greenhouse. She stood up with her hands on her hips proudly, taking in the new greenhouse. The plastic, translucent vinyl that covered the main structure still had an overbearing plastic smell, but otherwise it was quite pleasant to be in. Shane was admittedly impressed with the work they had done, the soil still needed to be turned, but the rafters were lined with misters to control the humidity of the air, and a large exhaust fan that was especially difficult to install correctly waited at the back of the building and was regulating the temperature perfectly. He took the second to appreciate their work with Bee, a slight sense of pride actually bubbling up into his chest.

 

"It looks great, Shane." Bee said softly, dropping her hands back to her side. The look she gave him was too earnest for him to comfortably return, so he pretended to be staring at the misters again.

 

"Yeah, I bet your friends in the city are super excited about their tiny vegetables, too."

 

"Hey, those tiny vegetables are partly paying for your salary, you better thank my friends and their silly requests," she said playfully, and leaned towards him so their shoulders bumped briefly. It was meant to be a joking motion, something she just did when she was feeling friendly, but the touch only made him stiffen more. It was the first time they had made any sort of contact since they had made far too much, and when he shoved his hands in his jacket pockets and looked away, Bee must've realized the same thing. She took a step back and muttered a quick apology.

 

"So, uh, would you like to stay for lunch?" She offered, eager for the moment to pass.

 

"Sure," He replied, and remembered that she still hadn't been over for dinner yet.

 

"Oh, so, when were you and Marnie…?"

 

"Ugh, don't remind me…" Bee groaned, motioning for him to follow her back to her house. "I called her again yesterday, I apologized and just told her I had been really busy, but _somebody_ " she shot daggers at Shane, "reminded her who my grandpa was and that's all she wanted to talk about. We were on the phone for over half an hour."

 

Shane smirked, "She would've figured it out eventually,"

 

"I thought she already knew! I thought almost everyone knew!" She protested, walking backwards now so she could face him.

 

"Well, when you came back and introduced yourself to everybody as _Rebecca_ it confused everyone, Ralph and everyone else here only ever called you Bee." 

 

     She rolled her eyes and turned away from him so she could walk up the stairs to her porch without falling over. Once inside they both removed their boots, Shane had learned that she didn’t like shoes on in the house, and she went to refrigerator to look for something to make for lunch. This was the first time he had been in her house for anything other than their morning coffee since his first day, so he wandered around her living room to avoid standing in the kitchen awkwardly. She was right about her house, while it looked great, there was no individual thing in the house that really… stood out. The whole living room was coordinated in white and yellow, but the fake yellow flowers in the white and yellow abstractly painted vase seemed like it would be more appropriate in a doctor's waiting room than a home. He briefly considered bringing that up, but decided she might take offense and let it drop. Instead he dropped onto the couch, moving aside far too many pillows.

 

"Hey," He heard behind him, almost immediately, causing him to jump. When he looked over his shoulder, she was holding a bottle of pumpkin ale. He took it without thinking, "Thanks,"

 

She nodded returned to the kitchen, where there was a pot of something incredibly aromatic simmering.

 

     Shane dug out his bottle opener and opened it, pocketing the bottle cap. "What're you making?" He asked, taking a swig of his ale. Oh, damn, that was really good. He examined the label again, trying to discern the brewery name through the swirls of screaming demon pumpkins decorating it. There goes waiting until after work.

 

"I made a huge batch of curry the other night, I figured I'd cook up some rice and do that?"

 

"Oh, is there chicken in it?"

 

"No, just vegetable dumpling… things, but I can put chicken in it if you'd like?"

 

"No! No, uh, just vegetables is fine…" He trailed off, but very relieved. He caught Bee smiling at him leaning on the counter, she had her own bottle in her hand.

 

"You don't eat chicken?"

 

"Yeah, uh" He suddenly felt very rude being the only one sitting down, and stood to lean on the arm of the couch instead. "I've gotten really attached to Marnie's and all, and just…" He shrugged, and looked down at his feet. Atleast these socks didn't have holes in them. "I eat other meat though, but I guess that's pretty hypocritical."

 

Bee laughed, it was her polite conversationalist laugh, it made him miss the laugh she had when they were sitting around the bonfire. He couldn't remember if it was actually any different, but it had felt more real.

 

"I was vegetarian before I moved onto the farm, so, not as bad as me."

 

"Wait, what? You started eating meat _after_ raising your own animals?"

 

"Yeah, I know, sounds weird, but the whole reason I didn't eat it beforehand was because I felt I didn't have a true appreciation of where our food comes from, the sacrifice of the animals, and so much grocery store meat comes from slaughterhouse breeders and cattle that never sees the light of day. I don't mind eating it now that I feel I have a better appreciation for all the work that goes into it, and I like to think that I do it a little bit better than the mass produced facilities."

 

     Shane wasn't sure how to follow that up, and after a minute of standing in silence Bee turned back to the stove to begin preparing plates. "You can go ahead and sit down, do you want another beer?" She asked, and Shane almost reflexively said yes, even though he had almost half of his left. He fought the urge to finish it off and open another one, however, and refused the second. Bee brought back their plates and sat across from him, he noticed her own drink barely had any missing.

 

     The curry was delicious, but after a couple bites he realized that the usual spice he associated with it was missing.

"Aren't curries usually hot?"

 

"Oh, yeah, usually." She took an uncomfortable sip of her drink, "I'm just a baby when it comes to spice."

 

"Oh."

 

"…Do you like spicy food?" She asked shyly.

 

"It's some of my favorite stuff, actually. I eat hot sauce on everything."

 

"Okay, well, next time I make it I'll make a batch that's super hot for you. I think I still have some pepper relish from summer jarred up around here somewhere…"

 

"You don't have to do that, I mean," Shane fumbled, he hated how he felt like everything he said or did might rub her wrong. One minute he might feel like they're having a comfortable conversation, and the next he'd look back and realized he must've come across as a huge dick.

 

"Shane." Bee said firmly, pulling him out if his head, "It's fine," she had a small smile and ducked her head a little to make eye contact, "I would be happy to cook something you enjoyed."

 

 

     After lunch Shane asked if he could do the dishes, but Bee was insistent that he would do no such thing. He was prepared to put up a fight until she quipped that she was "very specific" about how things in her kitchen were cleaned and put away, so he went back to wandering the open part of her house until she was done. In the hallway, he noticed that the picture of them as children at the luau had been framed and hung up. The frame was the exact same one that all the other abstract, meaningless wall art had as well, but he was glad to see something that was personal in her home. He lingered, looking at the two of them. He had remembered her being so messy back then, unafraid to get dirty or lose a shoe, uncaring if her clothes were ruined with grass stains or if she knocked a tooth out by falling face first onto a tree root, blood running down her chin while she ran triumphantly to show her grandfather. He glanced back to Bee in the kitchen now, perfect house, perfect clothes, perfect hair. He couldn't help but wonder if something had changed.

 

"Oh, you found it," Bee said, walking into the hallway while she dried her hands. She stood behind him, looking up at the photo as well. "If I remember right, the soup that year was god awful."

 

Shane laughed a little, "Yeah, no one coordinated and none of the ingredients went together well. I think someone threw in an unopened can of tomato sauce at one point?"

 

"Was that you?"

 

"…That might've been me."

 

     Bee smiled at the photo, but she was only focused on how close to Shane she was standing. Without his thick canvas jacket on, she could almost feel his heat, and had an urge to lean into him. She stole a glance up at his face, he seemed lost in thought, lost in memories maybe. She dared to shift her weight, placing her close enough for their sleeves to brush. For a second, she thought she saw him glance back down to her,  only to close those few millimeters of distance separating them, and they stood shoulder pressed to shoulder in the hall way like that. Bee relished the warmth, the proximity, and Shane felt his head begin to spin with the smell of her hair and perfume. Did she smell this good that night at the bonfire? He couldn't remember.

 

     Bee felt like she was doing something she wasn't supposed to be doing, guilt began to prick at her and she closed her eyes, promising herself only a few more seconds of this. She counted to five, lingering on the last number, before dropping the dish towel she had used to dry her hands and immediately crouched to pick it up.

 

"Woops! Better go put this in the laundry."

 

     Just like that she was gone, and the moment had evaporated. Shane felt his ears burn as he walked back to the front door to put his shoes back on. What was that even? He heard her close the door to laundry room behind him and walk back up. With his back to her and sitting down, she had a momentary impulse to run her fingers through his hair while it was in such easy reach, but she squashed that idea before it could even completely form. She reminded herself that being desperate for affection was no excuse to behave inappropriately, she just needed some self-control.

 

"Why don't you take the rest of the day off?" She offered, standing back far enough to give him plenty of personal space.

 

Shane looked up from lacing up his boots, "You sure?"

 

"Yeah! We finished the greenhouse, I can handle the rest of the chores for the afternoon, and it's Friday. Go have fun."

 

     He could tell that her smile was forced, and if he were a braver man he'd challenge that what she really wanted was for him to keep her company this afternoon, but after only one beer that he drank too slow and the promise of disaster after last week, he would happily accept having his after work drink hours earlier than he expected.

 

     After they exchanged polite good-byes, Bee felt bed calling to her, but there was still work to be done. She went to her bathroom, which always held the slight smell of bleach, and checked her very discrete line of eyeliner. She took the time to analyze herself in the mirror before she got back to work, ignoring the way the arm she had pressed against Shane felt a little colder than the rest of her.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This just in: touch starved idiots finally enjoy the warmth of human contact for more than a second; more at 9


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I think they really just need some more convincing that partying together isn't a good idea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year everyone! I hope you all had happy holidays, and if you're back to read this chapter, thank you for being patient through that very busy time of the year.

     The winter holidays passed by uneventfully, and Shane had the whole week of Christmas off to spend with family. He was proud to say that he did that for most of the week, and told himself the rest of the time he spent sitting on the cliff side after Jas' bedtime was much needed alone time. Funny how he never felt any better after those nights.

It was early on New Year's Eve, Shane was sitting in the kitchen, pushed back on a creaky wooden dining chair and pretending to listen to Jas talk about her dolls when his phone alerted in his pocket so unexpectedly he almost fell backwards.

"Who is it?" Jas asked, pressing herself against his side so she could read over his shoulder when he pulled his phone out. Even though he turned away from her once he unlocked his phone, she just leaned over his lap. 

"A Bee?" she asked, looking to him for explanation. 

 "Yup."

     - **Good Evening, I hope you had a nice dinner. I heard that a lot of people from the town were going to ring in the new year at the saloon tonight, I was wondering if I would see you there? Oh, and t** **ell Jas and Marnie I said hi.**

 

"Who is it Uncle Shane?" Jas pressed, falling back on her heels after practically climbing all over him to read the message. 

"It's Bee, I told you."

"Who?" 

"Oh, uh, Rebecca?"

"Oh! Your boss!"

Shane smiled at that, "yeah, my boss. Hey, you should totally call her Bee from now on, okay? She thinks it's _hilarious_." Marnie had just walked into the kitchen during this sentence, and Jas giggling as she agreed.

"What? Does she not like being called that?"

Shane shrugged, he wasn't actually sure if it bothered her or not, but he liked the idea of everyone calling her by a childhood nickname after she had spent so much time trying to curate her image around the name Rebecca.

"You know, I've heard other people in town starting to call her Bee now, too." Marnie continued, "But if she doesn't like it, we should all stop."

"I'll ask her tonight." He replied, standing up and pocketing his phone again. They had already had plans to go to the saloon tonight as well, not necessarily together, but Jas was being dropped off at Vincent's and neither one of them wanted to spend it alone in the house.

"You're going to walk her there, I assume?" Marnie asked, but her tone phrased it as a command. 

"What?"

"That's a long, dark walk from her farmhouse to the town, I hate to think of her making it on her own. I'll drop Jas off on my way so you can go with her.

"I'm sure she'll be alright, Marnie, she's a grown woman," He stopped, noticing Jas yawn and nudging her. "Hey kid, you should go pack up, alright? Don't forget your toothbrush." He rubbed her back when she walked off to retrieve her bag.

"Shane." She sounded far more serious now.

"Huh?" He hoped she would've dropped it when he changed the subject, but instead she only crossed her arms and dared him to challenge her. 

"Okay, okay, I'll _offer_ to walk with her there." He conceded, and trudged off to his own room to make sure he looked at least a little presentable.

 

He couldn't remember a time while living with Marnie when he cared this much about his appearance. He had gotten back into the habit of shaving at least every other day, and his hair was usually combed before he left house now, too.

      - **y** **eah, but i told marnie and now shes making me ask you if i can walk you there.** **i hope thats ok**

     Satisfied that his message didn't come across as this being something he wanted to do, but rather an obligation, he went to his seldom used closet to pick out something to wear. Wasn't this usually a dressier night? He thought he remembered everyone last year dressing up, since this was one of the only events in the quiet rural town that would excuse it. He rifled through his clothes, deciding on a pair of grey slacks that he remembered fit him nicely, and a dark blue button up, but his hand stopped on the hanger once he pushed through the few jackets he owned.

 

_"Shane? Can I see it?" Sadie called sweetly from the other side of the dressing room door._

_"No, I hate it."_

_"Ugh, you're so boring, let me see it!"_

_The door swung open, revealing a very frustrated looking Shane. The brown and blue tweed dinner jacket was only a little large on the body, but the sleeves nearly covered his hands._

_"It doesn't fit, I just want to pick something else."_

_"I love it!" She exclaimed, immediately rushing in to fidget with the sleeves. "We'll just get it tailored and it'll fit perfectly, it really brings out your eyes." She looked up at him with a smile, and leaned in for a kiss._

_He begrudgingly complied, and gave her a small smile once she pulled back._

_"Fine."_

 

      He wrinkled his nose at the jacket once he pulled it down, but it was really the only one that wouldn't look absolutely ridiculous on him at this point. Everything else in the closet was at least two sizes too small. Once dressed he pulled down an old pair of leather shoes that were in dire need of care, and managed to find a pair of dress socks in the mess of his dresser. He felt ridiculous. He slipped through the hallway and into the bathroom as quickly as possible so no one would see him. He stared at himself in the mirror, seeing himself now in clothes he had only ever worn before made it feel like he was just pretending. It felt insulting to the memory of who he was. He could never be that man again, happy, in shape, why was he even bothering?

The second he was back in his room he heard his phone alert again, and he picked it up as he was shrugging out of the damned coat.

     - **That actually sounds lovely! I would like that very much, it also gives me a chance to give you my belated Christmas gift. You should wear something with lapels so you can wear it tonight.**

**-Sorry, I realized I completely ruined the surprise, but I just couldn't take that risk.**

He didn't know whether to laugh or scream.

 

     Shane gave a quick shouted good-bye to Marnie and Jas while they were in his god-daughter's bedroom, and rushed out the door before they could see him. Even though the sun had set, it thankfully wasn't cold enough to warrant a winter coat, and there was only hints of snow at the bases of the trees and places where the sun never touched. He used his phone flashlight to navigate through the short wooded area, and with every step his throat grew tighter. He couldn't do this, he looked like a damn fool, he was going to make an ass of himself, he looked like he was trying to hard, people were going to look and laugh and talk the second they saw him walk in with her. He rubbed the bridge of his nose; even if she immediately went to hang out with someone else, they would undoubtedly lean over and ask her, in that voice, why she had come with him in the first place anyway.

     He had to stop walking. He stood in the tree line and desperately scrambled for his flask. He took one large swallow, and once he felt the burn of it on his stomach, another. He stood there for a moment longer, eyes closed, until the warmth settled. Then he capped it and put it back. He'd be drinking plenty tonight, he reminded himself. Other people would be drinking a lot too, so, it won't even seem out of place tonight, he assured himself. 

     Shane knocked on the farmhouse's front door, feeling like a nervous high schooler going to prom. At least, he thought he did, he couldn't actually remember his prom night. When the door opened, he realized that in all that time he spent worrying about how he looked he hadn't even considered how he'd look next to her, and if that thought had crossed his mind he would've canceled and stayed home. Her dark hair was down and styled into loose curls that were impossibly uniform, she wore small and simple black earrings, a strapless silver dress that sparkled all over, around her back and cradled in her elbows was a thick black shawl, but most importantly of all, in her hand was two shot glasses. He was reminded once again that he could do this.

"Hey there!" She greeted, holding the door open for him and hurriedly closing it behind him to protect from the cold. "You look great!"

"Thanks, you do too." He eyed the glasses again, they were full of something very dark brown and so cold the outside of the glasses were frosted.  She offered one to him.

"I thought a small celebration of our own was in order, and it can double as a small pre-game."

     He took the glass, but just as he was about to stare into it and swirl it experimentally she tsk'ed and covered it with her hand. "No peeking!" she teased, and he suspected she had already been pre-gaming herself. "To these past few months. A new job, a new greenhouse, and a new friend." She toasted and held up her shot, he clinked it with hers, and they both threw it back. Shane felt like he had been punched in the face, he forced himself to swallow the vile liquid though, and immediately shot Bee a look of betrayal. She broke out into a laughter so hard she actually doubled over and held her stomach.

"Jager!?" He accused, unbiddenly smiling at her despite how awful that lingering taste was.

"I'm sorry! It was all I had!"

"Why did you only have Jager!? Why do you have Jager at all!" Bee composed herself a little, dabbing at the underside of her eyes and tucking her curls behind her ear, "I actually quite like it."

"That's impossible, no one likes Jager," He scoffed, and noticed how the burning of his ears began to ease his tension. Maybe tonight could even be fun.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually love Jagermeister too, but I'm participating in dry January (no drinking for a month! it's going well so far) what do you guys think about it? Love it? Hate it? No idea what it tastes like? Let me know lol


	8. Chapter 8

     After Bee took their shot glasses and set them in the sink, she picked up the small box sitting on the kitchen table, and Shane could tell she was tipsy by the way she nudged aside one of the place settings when she grabbed it and didn't even bother to straighten the placemat. "Here you go," she offered it to him with a bright smile and rosy cheeks.

     He flipped the box over in his hands a few times, it looked suspiciously like a ring box, and was covered in dark blue velvet. The remaining sober part of his mind threw a dart of guilt that stuck him painfully, but he was able to ignore it with the way Bee excitedly pressed for him to just open it already.

     It was a lapel pin, as he suspected, gold in color and fashioned into a handsome bee proudly splayed out as if it were some sort of crest. He raised his eyebrows and turned the box to her as if saying 'Really?' which successfully pulled another laugh from her. He found it was near impossible for him to not smile when he made her laugh.

     "Makes me seem a little self-centered?" she joked, stepping towards him and holding her hand out for it. He offered it to her and tried to correct his posture as much as the rods in his spine would allow him while she attached it to the lapel of his jacket. A lump formed in his throat once she was close, and a small sense of drunken pride made him pull his shoulders back further. He was thrilled that she was comfortable enough to be this close to him, and that maybe this meant their very rocky start was now firmly behind them.  

"Not at all," he missed the vanilla sweet smell of her perfume once she stepped back to admire her work. He looked down at it as well, he loved it, it made him feel like a knight that had been gifted a favor by his lady.

"Sorry I didn't get you anything," he began to apologize, but before he could ramble Bee shook her head.

"No, no, no. You got me more than I could ever ask for. You have no idea how much of a help you've been, and how long I had been struggling with the increasing demands of this place by myself. You, Shane," she paused and looked at him, suddenly very serious, "are a godsend."

 _You're wrong._ "Well, thanks for taking me on, glad I could help… uh, you wanna get going?" He looked at everything but her, and turned towards the door hoping the moment would just end already and they could get going.

"Sure, just let me grab my shoes."

 

     But she didn't just grab her shoes, she came back toting a large designer purse, a pair of heels hooked through her fingers, and another pair of flats that she dropped in front of the door and slipped on. He rolled his eyes at her, already familiar with the complex routine of wardrobe changes. He wouldn't ask why she wouldn't just wear the flats, though, he already knew that that argument would go nowhere. He let himself out the front door and waited for her at the bottom of the porch steps. The whole thing was starting to remind him too much of Sadie.

     Once she caught up she pulled her shawl tight around her shoulders, "It's gotten colder since I last checked," she said light heartedly. He stole a glance down at her bare legs before looking back ahead. "The sun went down." He added, hoping his snark would come across as playful this time. 

"Oh, did it? I hadn't realized! 

"You're the one who commented on it being cold, at night, in the winter."

"I'm just trying to make conversation!"

"About the weather? What are you, British?"

Bee laughed, and a hand shot up to her hair to pull and twist at a curl, "No! I'm a debutante!"

"…a what?"

"A debutante? You know, like, a proper southern lady? I started taking classes at 13, they were basically just on decorum and etiquette." She pulled at her hair a little harder, "I guess I'm a little too old to be called that now, my ball was a couple years ago."

Shane looked at her like she had sprouted a second head, "Why the hell would you ever want to worry about something like that?"

"Because it gave me social skills that have proven to be invaluable in my adult life," she stated firmly, standing a little taller, "like talking about the weather."

Neither could keep a straight face at that.

 

     Once they got to the entrance of the saloon, Bee planted herself clumsily on the bench and pulled a sealable plastic bag from her purse, put her dirty flats inside of it, tucked them back into her purse, and then slipped her heels on. When she stood up she was now just slightly taller than Shane.

"There! Now I look like I'm ready to bring in the new year!"

     Feeling loose and confident, he pointedly looked her over. "You really do look amazing." He said, admiring the way her dress clung to her hips and how her new shoes defined the shape of her legs. He wondered if the muscles there had been acquired since working the farm, or if she had had them in the city, too. She seemed like the type that would go to the gym. When he settled on her face again she was smiling, but her eyes were slightly unfocused.

"Thank you, Shane. It's really nice to get a chance to bring this old stuff out again."

    He wanted to talk about how it was so different for him, how he hated that he still owned stuff that didn't fit because he was convinced maybe one day it would again. How maybe one day he would be the man who wore tailored dinner jackets and had articles written about him in soccer magazines again, but she was smiling and he would ruin that. Not to mention he was confident that he didn't actually want her to know those things about him. Instead, he silently opened the door for her.

     When the warmth, light, and sound of the saloon washed over them all of his anxieties immediately resurface even through the thickness of liquor. He saw familiar faces turn and the idea of eyes on the two of them made him want to run back home. He realized how much it must look like they were here as a couple to everyone else. Shane inwardly groaned, already dreading the rumors and assumptions that would circulate like wildfire. Bee, however, seemed completely impervious and sauntered straight to the overcrowded bar, leaning on it with her elbows so Emily could hear her, and in doing so brushing shoulders with Elliot.

     Shane went to his usual spot in the back corner, where it was only marginally quieter. Once Bee had her flute of champagne she turned as if she expected him to be immediately behind her. Once she discovered that he wasn't, she found him quickly, exactly where she expected him to be, and came over. She set down her glass and leaning over his table. He was proud of himself for having the willpower to look only at her face, and not down the completely exposed front of her dress.

"Emily asked if you wanted champagne too, or just the usual?" She asked, having to talk much louder and lean much closer to be heard over the din of nearly a whole town's population crammed into a single bar.

"Oh, uh, just a beer is fine."

She nodded and tapped her glass with a nail polished in far too much glitter, "Watch my drink?" Before he could even respond she was already squeezed next to Elliot again and talking to Emily.

     Once Shane realized he had been watching the effervescence in Bee's drink for longer than it should've taken for a beer to be poured, he saw that Bee was still at the bar, chatting with Elliot. She had his beer in her hand, and had held it there for a while apparently since much of the frosting on the glass had begun to melt. He felt a pang of jealousy, but immediately chided himself for it. This wasn't a date, they didn't come here _together_. She could spend all night with Elliot for all he cared. He glanced in their direction again, scanned the length of the bar, and once he was confident that no one was intently watching him he slipped out his flask again. Bee could take all the time in the world with his beer if she wanted. 

     As he was tucking it back into his pocket, Bee spun to gesture broadly to him and started waving to get his attention. He played off his movements as if he was straightening his shirt under his jacket before giving a small, sarcastic wave back. She gestured for him to come over, but Elliot only spared him a passing glance and was still attempting to talk to her. Shane picked up Bee's drink and left his comfortable, familiar spot. He hated every step that brought him closer to them, and it showed.

"Sorry I left you alone like that," Bee traded drinks with him, obvious concern written on her face. "I was just telling Elliot about what a huge help you've been on the farm."

He grunted in acknowledgement and took thankful many drinks from his less-than-cold mug.

"Rebecca said that you put up her greenhouse nearly by yourself!" Elliot praised,  and then distracted, tapped Shane's chest where his lapel pin sat. "This is sharp, I really like it." 

"Thanks…" He tried to make eye contact with Emily, as if she could save him from all this attention. He had only seen Elliot drunk a couple times, but he did remember that in both instances he became unbearably chatty.

     Bee gave Shane a knowing smile, "Doesn't it look good?" she shifted her weight so she was leaning against the bar now, her hip pushed out closer to Shane. "But! Tell me about this," she rubbed the material of Elliot's coat, it was made of a dark velvet, maroon, and stood out amongst the sea of black, blue, and brown that the rest of the men wore. "Where did you get it?"

 

     Shane zoned out while they talked, only vaguely coming back to the moment when Bee occasionally shifted her weight and accidentally brushed against him. He almost tried to join in the conversation, but when he realized that there would be no natural gap between the two of them, he stared at the reporters on the television screen instead. They crowded around each other in sparkling dresses and tuxes accented with colorful prints, all huddled underneath clear plastic umbrellas. He wished it had been raining tonight here, too. Then maybe there wouldn't be so many people out. He lifted his mug again only to be surprised by the fact that it was empty. He leaned around Bee to set the mug on the bar, intentionally pressing against her side because fuck it, if she was going to be so touchy tonight he could be too. 

"You know, I would've set it down for you if you had passed it." Her low voice broke him from his stupor, and he realized that Elliot was no longer standing next to them. How long had they been standing here with him staring into space like an idiot?

     "Oh, sorry, I wasn't-" he scrambled to apologize, his drunken confidence and comfort destabilized for a moment, but the way she was smiling told him that she didn't mind at all, and instead it only bolstered it. He only nodded to Emily when she asked if he wanted another, unable to tear his eyes from Bee's. She did it for him though, turning to lean over the bar again and ask for another glass of champagne while Emily was still nearby. When she did she kicked a heeled foot up, presumably so she could get closer so the bartender could hear her, but when she ran that foot up the side of his leg he realized it had been much more intentional than that.

     When Bee turned back around, their drinks in hand, his swimming mind had only one clear thought: she was flirting with him. _Why?_ He was too far gone to have the composure to stop it, but not so far gone as to not be confused and almost unsettled by the whole thing. What had caused such a drastic change? He took his beer from her and motioned to his booth in the back. He fell into it unceremoniously, and when she tried to slide in next to him he shook his head no and relocated her drink to the other side of the table. She gave him a look that was almost hurt, but took her spot across from him. 

"What you're doing, it's a bad idea." He blurted immediately, leaning onto his elbows near her. Even supported like this, he could feel his body threaten to sway. 

"What are you talking about?"

"Stop flirting with me!"

      She pouted. She fucking pouted. Bee looked like she had been denied a sweet, as if he was ruining some sort of game for her. "Do you not enjoy it?" She teased, tucking her hair behind her ear. Her words were slightly slurred. 

"I- that's not the point!" as serious as he was trying to be, he couldn't help but lose some of his composure when a smile played on her lips. "We're kind of drunk! It's a bad idea!" He insisted, but she only smiled harder and rested her chin in her hand.

"Oh, lighten up a little! Aren't you having _fun_? We have to work together all the time, it's always so serious, isn't it nice to just… be a little _irresponsible_?" She pushed a foot in between his, so one of her bare calves leaned against the inside of his. He put a hand down on the table and cleared his throat, attempting to keep himself composed.

"That's not the point," he repeated, eyes screwed shut and trying his hardest to will away the arousal running hot in his veins. 

"Then what is the point?"

     "We can't have fun because," he sighed, hating the way the tightness in his slacks made it impossible to think, impossible to articulate everything wrong with what was happening. The alcohol in his system was screaming at him to shut up, to let it happen, to just enjoy it and deal with the consequences later, but this was _Bee._ He had already fucked up with her once, this couldn't be a reoccurring thing or he would lose his job for sure. Not to mention he… respected her. He respected her in a way that he would never ruin with his own chaos and mess. As much as he wanted it, and _fuck_ did he want it, the idea of the incredibly awkward morning after with a childhood friend kept some semblance of sanity to the forefront of his mind.

"Because…?"

"Because you're technically my boss," he offered with so little conviction even he could tell he wasn't really trying.

"I don't like to think of you working for me, Shane, I prefer to think of us working _together._ "

Damn her.

 

     He drained the rest of his beer too fast, but he could barely even feel the ache it caused in his stomach anymore. When he looked back at Bee she had her glass raised and wasn't looking at him at all. He was only confused for a second though, before the whole establishment began to count down in unison.

"Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!"

     Bee cheered and drank, then looked squarely at Shane, who was taken aback that he had missed the whole thing. She leaned halfway over the table, her curls falling over her shoulders, her red lips turned in a coy smile, and her arms propping her upright in a way that pushed her chest together.

"Kiss me?"


	9. Chapter 9

     After Bee asked for him to kiss her, Shane half stood up and leaned across the table as well, her pace quickened and she was excited to meet his lips, but instead he removed himself from the booth altogether, albeit clumsily.

     "Do you want another?" but her glass was still more than halfway full, so she sat herself back and shook her head. She wasn't disappointed, in fact, she was enjoying the challenge. Bee watched him get another beer, clean out half of it while still standing at the bar, then come back and stare at her in a way that was far too intense.

"You're swaying," Shane noted, swaying himself. 

"Nuh-uh!"

"There's that debu…deba…"

"Debutante? Are you trying to make fun of me!?" They both laughed, drunk minds too fuzzy and too distracted to linger on any one thing for too long, but Shane managed to circle his back around.

 

"Are you toying with me?" He practically yelled, but he was unable to keep a serious face or tone, so Bee had to reply through giggles. 

     "Of course not!" She insisted, and finished the rest of her drink. She noticed that Shane was almost done as well, and the only thing the remaining rational part of her mind could tell her was that it was time to go home. She had gotten too drunk too fast. Everything was making her laugh, and she wanted nothing more than to tell Shane anything he wanted to hear in that moment. This was the red flag that warned her it was time to get out of the water. 

    "Hurry up and finish your beer, I wanna go home." She stood up, grabbed her bag, and leaned against the edge of the table. The way Shane stared too long at her body made her feel warm, and she loved the way his cheeks turned pink when he realized he had been caught. Not that he was being especially stealthy.

"I don't want the rest of it," he said, standing up to join her.

 "Sounds good, let's go."

 

 

     Once outside Bee went through the meticulous process of replacing her dirty shoes and storing her heels back in her bag, although it took much longer this time because she couldn't seem to understand why the heels wouldn't exactly fit in the bag, and when Shane tried to help it just resulted in them becoming a giggly mess. Shane was still laughing at her trying to shove them in when the front door creaked open, and like teenagers getting caught doing something they weren't supposed to be doing they both quickly hurried off towards her farm, shushing each other's hushed laughter. 

     It was lightly misting outside, the chill felt good on Bee's flushed cheeks but the wet cobblestones threatened to snap her ankles with every wobbly step. Once their laughter subsided, and she noticed just how dreary it was, her mood sobered far quicker than she wanted it to. 

"Thanks for coming out with me tonight, sorry if I was being embarrassing." She slurred, mostly to the street, but loud enough that her partner could hear.

"No! You weren't being embarrassing, just-" 

"We shouldn't make decisions we'll regret later." She finished, and saw the way that made Shane flinch.

"Well, that, but also… I don't really want anyone to see us."

 

     Bee nodded, she knew what he meant. It was a small town, any small harmless mistake they make would only be made exponentially worse under the microscope of small town gossipers. Lord only knows what would've been said if anyone had found out about their drunken make out session. She couldn't stand the idea of anything less than a perfect reputation and already began to worry about what would be said of her behavior tonight.

"Do you think anyone was paying attention to me? I hope I didn't come across as a complete lush…"

     Shane scoffed and rolled his eyes, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Are you serious? You're _perfect_ , even the way you relax and let loose and do things that are supposed to be wrong are done so… _perfectly_ " He glared at his feet as they walked. "If anything they were paying attention to me, wondering why you were laying in the gutter with the town drunk. They're going to talk about how this walk was malicious, and probably how you were acting weird because I fed you too many drinks. They'll just assume it was my fault, so don't worry about it, your reputation is saved."

Bee looked aghast, but stayed silent, she had no idea what to say to that.

 

     Once they made the turn into the wooded area just outside of the city, he started again, but this time much louder. "And you know what? I hate the way you toy with me like this, I hate the way you know you're perfect and you know I'm not. I can't just be _irresponsible_ with you and you know that, but you tease the idea anyway. You _know_ this would be bad, we would be bad, that none of this would end well. I fucking, just," He groaned in frustration and dug out his flask. 

     Bee watched in fascination as he revealed it, surprised that she hadn't noticed it before, but the smell of the cheap whiskey in it was unmistakable and oh so familiar. She held her hand out to ask for it. They both stopped walking, and he obliged. She made a face at the taste, despite her taste buds not working. She handed it back, but didn't let go of it once his hand overlapped hers.

"Do you want to keep talking?"

     "Saying it like that makes me feel like an idiot, but, everything makes me feel like an idiot, so why not." He took another drink, and continued walking towards the farmhouse, each step uneven. "I think you're gorgeous, but I'm a trainwreck and if we got together I'd just bring you down with me," his words were incredibly slurred at this point, and Bee could tell he was beginning to spiral but she didn't know what else to do in her inebriated state other than just let him run himself until he was tired. "I can't stand the idea of you dropping to my level," he continued, "You seem like you've got everything figured out and you're so successful, this" he gestured loosely at himself, "would be ten steps in the wrong direction. Not to mention if anyone found out about us... You think your reputation would be affected by drinking too much on New Year's? You'd be a damn pariah if anyone knew you were close to me. I'm surprised you aren't already just because we work together!"

 

     Bee silently stumbled alongside him. She listened to him go on about how he thought he was worthless, how he was a useless attempt at being a dad, and even how he thought that she was beautiful and he would give anything for the situation to be different. Once they made it to her front porch, he was mostly muttering to himself, repeating what he had already said.

     "Shush." She said, and placed a hand on his cheek so he would be forced to look at her. He made a halfhearted attempt to pull away, but she didn't let him. His face was burning hot under her touch. "Do you want to come inside?" She offered, and immediately saw him inhale and turn red as if he was going to yell, but she cut him off. "I heard you, I was listening, and I'm not teasing you. I'm offering you coffee, some time to sober up, or a couch to spend the night if you need it." Her hand dropped so it was holding his. "I really don't want you walking home alone tonight, either. Especially since I know no one is there right now, will you please stay?" Bee watched him struggle with himself, watched him stare at the boards in the porch and could only imagine what horrible things he was telling himself, but he eventually nodded yes, and let her lead him inside.

 

     Once inside he shucked his jacket and hung it on the hooks next to her front door, and even remembered to take his muddy shoes off. He watched Bee stumble and struggle to kick off her heels, throw her bag onto the couch and walk down the hallway to her room. She beat on a door in the hallway as she passed it, "Bathroom's in here," she called as she slipped into her room.

     Shane let his head drop over the sink, his elbows anchored to the sides of it for support as he swayed back and forth. He couldn’t tell if he was going to be sick or pass out. He secretly wished for the latter, since he might fall and hit his head on the tile or side of the tub and end it all right here. It would be kinder to him then how he felt right now, but still he pushed forward. He rolled his sleeves up so they wouldn't get soaked and turned on the sink. He did his best to wash his face and rinse his mouth of the taste of Maker's. Once he was done he grabbed one of the neatly pressed and embroidered towels that hung next to the sink, dried his face, and carelessly dropped it to the floor. He was about to leave, but paused and picked the towel back up, folded it as neatly as he could, and laid it over the side of the sink. "I'm sorry I'm such a fuck up," he told the now wrinkled hand towel. 

     When Shane came back into the living room Bee still wasn't there, so he took it upon himself to make coffee for them. The little instant cups were neatly stored next to the brewer, and he had already figured out how the brewer worked, where the mugs were kept, and even that Bee liked her coffee with just a little bit of flavored creamer that she kept in the fridge. It took some concentration and multiple attempts to get the little plastic cup inside correctly, and when the screen lit up offering options the words moved too much for him to read. He jammed the button repeatedly until the little brewer gurgled to life. He leaned against the counter and closed his eyes, satisfied with his work. As he was drifting off, he heard his name being called from the other side of the hallway. He couldn't muster much more than a grunt of acknowledgement, but when his head dropped and startled him awake he cleared his throat and managed a reply. 

"Yeah?" he called back, not looking away from the coffee now heartily being dispensed into the mug.

"Come here real quick!"

     He sighed and turned towards Bee's room, already dreading whatever it was that he was going to find there. He didn't need to know what her bedroom looked like, and he _really_ didn't need to know what she looked like after she got home from a night of drinking. That was far too intimate for him in his guilt ridden state, but that's what he ended up getting anyway. She stood in the middle of her room, in nothing but her dress, and holding her hair pulled to one side. "Would you mind getting my zipper? I'm sorry, I've tried everything."

"Stop fucking with me, how'd you get it on in the first place?"

"A paper clip on a string, like a fishing line, I can zip it up myself, but I can't undo it."

 

     He rubbed the bridge of his nose before approaching her and she turn around, exposing her bare shoulders and neck to him. He wanted nothing else than to kiss her neck, to bite along her shoulders, especially after knowing that that was what she wanted too. He put a hand on her shoulder to stabilize himself, and her, and noted how cold she felt under his touch. He unzipped the dress just a couple of inches, "there, can you reach that yet?" Instead of reaching behind her to grab the zipper, she raised a hand to put over his own. Her fingers were like icicles. "Your hand is so warm…" she murmured. 

     Bee leaned her head over to press her cheek against the back of his hand as well, and transfixed, he placed his other hand on her other shoulder. She sighed happily, and then quickly spun around and replaced his hands back on her shoulders before he could tell what she was doing., only now she was facing him. Bee reached her own arms up tentatively and wrapped them around his neck. This forced him to either take his hands off of her altogether, or drop them to her back. He opted for the latter, and one of his hands brushed over the partly undone zipper of her dress. 

"Is this okay?"

     Shane's mouth was dry, but he nodded and traced his eyes over every line on her face as if he would be quizzed on it later. How was it possible that her makeup still looked pristine? Simultaneously they both began to pull each other closer until they were pressed together from ankle to chest, and then an alarm reverberated through the quiet, wooden house in a way that made them both jump out of their skin. Bee pushed herself back as if she had been caught, but Shane kept his hands on her shoulders and laughed.

 

     "The coffee machine," he explained, and upon seeing her relieved smile and missing her touch, he pulled back into the tight embrace. He didn't know why, but she was there, and she was smiling, and it was easier than doing anything else in that moment. He wrapped his arms around her, pulled her into his chest until he felt her face nuzzle into his neck, and they stood just like that. She was freezing to the touch, and shook slightly in his arms. He started to silently berate himself for not offering her his jacket on the walk home, but stopped himself, he refused to ruin this moment. He squeezed her tighter and ducked his head so it was in her hair. He could drown and die in the smell of her and be happy. Slowly Bee's shaking began to still, and she made a soft and happy hum. Her nails scratched circles in his back, and she resisted the urge to pepper kisses along Shane's neck while it was in such close proximity. 

"This is all we should do right now, isn't it?" She whispered. Shane inhaled deeply and slouched into a sigh. 

"Yeah..." 

Bee nodded into his neck and counted to five again. This time when they pulled away the cold that washed over her in his absence was almost overwhelming. She wrapped her arms around herself.

"You should go finished our coffee, I'll be right out with some blankets and pillows for you." 

 

 

    Shane was sat on the couch and staring into his coffee once Bee came back into the living room. She dropped some folded blankets and pillows next to him. They smelled like a linen closet in all the best ways. Bee herself was in a tank top and plain black sweatpants that hung loosely on her.

 "I don't mind if you want to get undressed to sleep, by the way, I'll be in the other room anyway. I know how uncomfortable trying to sleep in slacks can be."

 

     Shane hardly even heard her, too distracted by the way she looked so… undone. She was obviously still a little drunk, she wasn't wearing anything special, her hair was actually slightly messy, and she had taken off her makeup. He realized just now that this was the first time he had seen her without it probably since they were children. The faint freckles over the bridge of her nose were much more obvious this way, and she had light pink acne scars on her cheeks.

"They say sleeping in makeup adds ten years to the skin," Bee commented once she noticed him staring. She sat in a recliner next to the couch and tucked her feet under her, her coffee cradled in both hands.

"You're beautiful."

"And you're drunk."

"Yeah, yeah I am. Just pretend I didn't say that tomorrow, okay?"

That earned him a small half smile, "I don't know, I can be awful vain. I might keep that one."

 

     They drank their coffee slowly and in silence. Once they were done, Bee was essentially sober. Shane wasn't far behind her, and he was pleased to discover the usual waves of self hatred and guilt didn't seem to crash down as hard this time, something about sitting in her living room and watching the embers die in the fireplace made it feel like, maybe, he was okay. They hadn't done anything terribly regrettable, he hadn't insulted her it seemed, and he wasn't getting sick in the bathroom. All in all it looked like the night hadn't been a complete disaster. Even while thinking that, smaller voices nipped at the back of his mind that he was completely wrong, everything was wrong, everything was ruined, and he was never going to see her again. 

 

"Hey," Bee spoke up again, bringing him out of his thoughts, "I know you probably don't want me to bring it up again because everything's just so… complicated, but, I wanted to let you know that I meant everything I said tonight. It sucks that I had to be drunk to say it, and that I said so much so fast, but, well. I meant it."

 

Shane was confused, what exactly had she said this evening? He felt that he had done all the talking, far too much talking, and that she had had to deal with that disaster. "What do you mean?"

 

"I mean that I do seriously think we could have fun together. I know you're worried about other people knowing but," she laughed and spread her arms out to gesture to the house, "We're kind of in the middle of nowhere." She looked back at him with a sad smile, "I just want you to know that if it's ever something you'd be interested in, I would be open to it. I can't live my life closed off from affection and enjoying other people's company anymore, that's why I moved out here after all, to connect to people. I know you don't think much of yourself and you've got some stuff to work out, so, it's your call."

 

     She stood up, took both of their mugs and set them in the sink next to the shot glasses from a few hours ago. When she passed the couch on her way to her bedroom she stopped behind where Shane was still sitting, looking down at his hands. She ran her fingers through his hair, and he made a soft noise in the back of his throat. Bee leaned over and kissed him on the top of his head. "Good night, Shane."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: I went back through this chapter and the previous two and cleaned them up a bit.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The "morning after" gets easier with practice

 Bee realized she was awake before she opened her eyes, and she was hyperaware of the fact that she wasn't alone in her home this morning. Not because she could hear Shane moving around or anything, but because the memories of last night hit her like a train once she returned to consciousness. With her eyes still closed, knowing she would find nothing, she stretched her arms out to the other side of the bed. It was cold and empty, just like she knew it would be. She would never even admit to herself that she wished it wasn't, and pretended she was only grabbing the pillow on that side of the bed instead. She squeezed it tight to her face while her mind raced. Shane was likely still sleeping on her couch, what should she do?

 

     After a count to five, she forced herself out of bed and checked the time, 8:30 am, she didn't get to sleep in much this morning. Despite her grogginess and general all over bad feeling she managed to go through the motions of her morning routine, paying particular attention to brushing her teeth. The taste of whiskey just wasn't going to budge, it seemed. Once she was showered, she decided to keep her hair down to dry. Out of habit she returned to her room and sat at her vanity to put on her everyday look, but she ended up sitting and staring at her brushes for a long time instead. Shane had seen her without it last night, sure, but the idea of seeing him again in the light of day, when they were both sober, and consciously making the decision to present herself barefaced made her far too anxious. She took her time this morning, not even an eyelash was out of place.

 

     By now she knew which floorboards creaked under her feet, and she could miss them almost without thinking about it. When she reached the couch where Shane was sleeping she couldn't help but steal a glance. He was not a pretty sleeper, and she had to cover her mouth to prevent herself from audibly laughing at the way he was splayed out on his back. His face was scrunched, eyebrows furrowed, and she could almost hear him grinding his teeth from here.

 

     "Shane?" She whispered, and when she didn't get any sort of response and she was satisfied that he was fast asleep, she continued on to the kitchen. She decided on tea rather than coffee this morning. While her electric kettle warmed up, she went hunting for her purse. She found it on the floor of the living room, perfect. Bee replaced it on the table and dug out the pack of menthols hidden in one of the interior pockets of the bag and shoved them in the pocket of her oversized shirt instead.

 

     With hot tea in hand and a stash of cigarettes she headed out onto her front porch. It was unseasonably warm and she was grateful for it. The fog rolled over her farm slowly. She couldn't hear the usual far-away hum of the town this morning. Everyone else must be sleeping off their hangover as well. She took a deep drag of her cigarette and closed her eyes, letting the quiet morning wash over her. What happened last night? When had all of … _that_ surfaced? How had she not noticed it earlier?

 

     More importantly, why was she so okay with it? It felt completely out of character, admitting to a man that she would be okay with a casual, physical relationship just because she was lonely.  That made her look so… desperate, so why didn't she care? Bee took another drag. She didn't know whether to be thankful that her usual anxieties weren't bothering her, or worried that she had finally snapped and this was her way of acting out. She had fought against these bounds she had put on herself her whole life and suddenly, with seemingly no cause, they were just gone.

 

     Once her mug was empty and she had nothing but the filter left, she finally dragged herself back inside. While she was rinsing her mug out she heard blankets shuffle and Shane clear his throat. The clock on the oven told her it was a little after nine, much earlier than she thought he would stir. She approached the couch silently, and noticed that Shane was squinting up at the ceiling.

"Hey there, sorry to wake you."

He groaned and rubbed his heels into his eyes; he looked awful.

"How're you feeling?" she walked to the other side of the room to pull the curtains closed, the growing morning light would soon illuminate the whole room and she knew that would only make it worse.

"Bad."

Bee gave him a sympathetic hum. "Would you like any tea?"

"No."

"Coffee?"

"…maybe," he sounded like every word was a fight, and she returned to his side.

"Hey, are you okay?" She asked, reaching out to put a light hand on his arm, it felt clammy, and she could still smell the liquor on him.

"No," he looked around, intentionally missing her gaze, "what time is it?"

"It's just a little after 9, what's wrong?"

"It's just my back," he mumbled, and dropped his head back to the pillow with an arm draped over his eyes. "It's killing me."

 

     Bee stood back up, unsure of what to do with him. His mouth was pressed thin and his jaw was clenched so tight she could see the muscles being pulled taut and releasing. "Is… is there anything I can do?" He shook his head, but after a moment's thought cleared his throat.

"Actually, could you help me get on the floor real quick?

"What?"

"Just, look, this is embarrassing enough as it is. Laying on a flat surface sometimes makes it feel better."

She immediately scrambled to his side, offering her hands so he could pull himself up enough to relocate onto the living room floor.

"Is that any better?"

"A little bit, yeah."

"Do you want me to get you some tylenol or something?"

He just nodded, keeping his eyes closed, hating every moment of this but in too much pain to really focus on why it was so embarrassing. When Bee came back she set down a bottle of pain killer, a glass of water, a mug of coffee, and a plate of toast.

"Was it because of the couch?" her words were careful and gentle, he hated it. He hated being pitied.

"No, it's because my back is a piece of shit."

"Oh."

 

     Awkward silence hung between them. Once Shane got tired of the pity he heaved a long sigh and pushed himself off the floor with a grimace. The stiffness in the fused part of his back was impossible to ignore when it refused to round out during the stretch. He situated himself against the couch behind him, so at least he was sitting up now.

"I'm fine, see? I'll be fine."

Bee sat on the recliner, anxiously pulling at her hair and watching him intently as he took a hearty dose of pain killer.

"…Are you just going to watch me?"

"Oh! Sorry, I can… um. I'm going to go feed the chickens, do you need anything else?"

"To not feel like death left me behind."

"Oh."

"I'm kidding, it's fine, go feed the chickens before they tear down the coop."

 

     Shane rested his head on the cool surface of the living room table after he heard Bee leave, the extra strain on his back made it scream in protest, but his burning face and turning stomach was winning this battle. Damn, his mattress at Marnie's wasn't exactly great but the dull ache he got from that felt like a massage compared to the pain he was experiencing right now. He nibbled on his toast until it no longer felt like his stomach was planning an exit, and forced himself to drink the entire glass of water before attempting to stand up.

 

     "Fuck! Fuck this, fuck my back, fuck drinking…" he trailed the 'fucks' on the entire way to the bathroom, where his reflection only salted the wound. What the fuck was wrong with Bee that she looked at this and decided it would be worth even a minute of her time? What was wrong with him that he had the audacity to accept anything from her when he knew he deserved none of it? The only thing he deserved from her after the way he had behaved was her scorn.

 

     He helped himself to her shower and stood in the scalding hot water to ease the tension in his back for far too long before he realized he should probably actually bathe in some way. However, the contents of her shower had him completely confused. Rather than the usual bottles of shampoo, conditioner, and body wash she had three discrete… bars of soap? All three of them were pink, but they were each shaped differently and one appeared to have rice in it? Frustrated and feeling guilty for using nearly all of her hot water at this point, he got out of the shower to retrieve the bar of hand soap on the sink and used it instead, berating himself for not thinking of it earlier. He'd have to make a note to apologize to her later for it, alongside a number of other things.

 

     Once he stepped out of the shower he was presented with a new problem, there weren't any bath towels in here. There weren't any cabinets or shelving where some might be hiding, only the hand towel still folded on the sink, mocking him. Swallowing his pride, he poked his head out the bathroom door to check if Bee was back yet. He called her name, checked both ways down the hallway, but all was silent. He stepped back into the bathroom and closed the door against the cold air to formulate a game plan. He knew that the room directly next to him was the laundry room, there was probably a towel in there, but it was a 50/50 that it would be clean. He shook his head, no, it would definitely be clean. There was no way _Rebecca_ would let dirty laundry hang out in her house. If he couldn’t find one there though, because there was also a high chance that she immediately put all of her laundry away, it would have to be in a linen closet, in her bedroom, or in the master bathroom. He ran his hands through his soaked hair. Or he could sit here, cold and wet, until she got back.

 

     The sound of the front door opening let loose a flood of relief. He opened the door just a crack, "Hey, Bee? Could you bring me a towel…" and he was immediately replied to with a fit of giggles.

"Fuck you!" he only half meant it.

"Sorry! I should've left some in there last night," more laughter, even in his piss poor mood he couldn't help but smile at the sound, though. In a matter of moments he heard a soft knock on the door, and when he opened it just wide enough to peak through he saw Bee with a towel outstretched, a hand over her eyes, and a wide smile on her face.

"Fuck you," he repeated.

 

     When he was dressed again he came back out to the kitchen, where he found Bee putting away the dishes he had left on the living room table.

"Feeling any better?" She asked over her shoulder.

"A bit, yeah."

"Good. I just want to preface this by saying I am _not_ kicking you out, but just reminding you that this is one of your off days too. I would be more than happy if you wanted to, um." Bee paused and furrowed her brows, pretending for a moment that the arrangement in the dishwasher just wasn't right until she could choose the right words. "If you wanted to rest here, that would be fine. It might be nice to have some hangover company."

 

     Shifting uncomfortably in his seat, the offer was tempting, but he was hating how gross last night's clothes felt on him, and he was supposed to pick Jas up at noon. It was only ten. He could always ask Marnie to pick her up instead, he almost always did. Taking his silence as a 'no' she hurriedly continued, "but if you'd be more comfortable resting at home I totally get that, you probably miss your bed and want to see Jas. That's totally fine." She closed the dishwasher with her hip and turned to face him. He knew she was trying too hard to seem like she didn't care, the way she pulled at her hair was her tell.

 

"Yeah, I really should just, go home. I've got to pick Jas up, she spent the night at Vincent's."

"Oh, okay, yeah cool. Like I said, I totally understand." Bee let go of her hair and pushed herself off the counter. She took a step towards him then stopped, clearly unsure of what would be the correct way to say goodbye at this point.

"So, um…" she suddenly caught a glimpse of his jacket hanging by the door and used it as an excuse, "don't forget your jacket, it'd make me think you don't like my gift."

Shane took it from her and put a hand on the front door, "Of course not, I think it's great."

"I'll… see you tomorrow then?"

"Yeah, bright and early…" they both fidgeted for just a moment, then Bee stepped in, gave him a quick hug, and was back out of reach before he could react.

 

 

    Shane didn't think he had ever been so grateful to see his mess of a room before. As soon as he closed the door behind him he stripped off the clothes from last night and put on the shorts and hoodie that lay on top of his laundry pile. He had promised himself that he would just stop by to change then go straight to pick up Jas, but just the sight of his bed made him exhausted. Marnie wasn't home, probably spent the night at Lewis' since it was in town. He flopped into his bed and managed to stay awake long enough to ask Marnie to make sure Jas got back home. He was asleep before he even got a reply.


End file.
